The Last Year of Innocence
by Athena mou
Summary: It's the summer of 1911. The London Season is in full swing as the aristocracy is celebrating in grand style, blissfully unaware of the terrible war looming in the near future. Lady Mary Crawley is sipping champagne and dancing the nights way until one evening when she comes face-to-face with her past. Sequel to Summer at Downton. *June 2013 UPDATE: Nominated for Highclere Awards*
1. London, June 1911

**The Last Year of Innocence**

_The Summer Before the World Changed Forever_

_..._

**Summary: **_It is the summer of 1911. The London Season is in full swing as the aristocracy is celebrating in grand style, blissfully unaware of the terrible events looming in the near future. Lady Mary Crawley is sipping champagne and dancing her way through party after party until one evening when she comes face-to-face with her past. This is a sequel to Summer at Downton and part 3 in the Downton Saga._

**Rating:**Mature (in parts)  
**Spoilers:** Season 1 & 2 trough the Christmas Special

**Disclaimer:** Any names off characters you recognize from Downton Abbey are not mine. All original characters do however belong to me. Fanfiction is in my opinion the ultimate form of flattery to a screenwriter :)

…

_As I keep working on the next chapter of __**The Rightful Heir**__, I decided to post the first two chapters of the continuation to my __**Downton Saga**__. RL has been crazy busy lately with shopping, wrapping, entertaining… and everything else that goes with the holiday season. Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas and entertaining. The fact is, it is a lot of work! I hope to get some time to write between Christmas and New Year's._

_My lovely Irish beta,__**Tambear**__, is still recuperating. She has had a rough couple of months, so please send her your best wishes for a speedy recovery, and keep her in your prayers (if that's your thing)._

_While __**Tambear **__is recovering, the talented and wonderful __**R. Grace **__has so graciously agreed to help me out. Between the two of them, they have steered me in the right direction with this story. So, a huge thank you to __**Tambear **__and __**R. Grace **__for their help with catching missing commas, odd grammar and offering excellent suggestions & advice! I hope that you will enjoy it!_

_With that said, allow me to bring you back to London in 1911. I hope this story will distract you in a good way while you anticipate the Christmas Special & the start of the third series in the US._

…

…

**Chapter I – London, June 1911**

Mary smiled as she sipped her champagne. The evening had been wonderful, and the best part was that it was only half over. She glanced at her parents on the dance floor. Her father was sweeping her mother around so smoothly. He said something Mary could not hear, but it clearly made her mother happy. Mary sighed at the sight of them, laughing together. She knew that they had not married for love, but apparently it had happened.

"Mary?"

Mary gasped and covered her mouth. She turned around and stared at him in shock.

"Matthew!"

He took a step closer and smiled at her. "It is you."

She nodded and held out her hand to him. He took it and rubbed his thumb over the back of it.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, confused.

Matthew shrugged. "Mother felt that I needed to meet some young women and perhaps secure a future with some unsuspecting heiress," he joked.

"Quite similar to how I am paraded around here," she sighed.

Matthew was still holding her hand, and she was acutely aware of the fact. She looked up at him when he squeezed it.

"You look stunning, Mary. You always were beautiful, but you are even more stunningly so now," he said softly.

"Oh Matthew."

"Would you care to dance?"

She nodded and he took the glass from her, putting it down on a nearby table before escorting her onto the floor. They eased together like two missing pieces of the same puzzle; her hand settled on his shoulder, his on the small of her back. Her fingers curled naturally around his as he steered her through the dance.

"Last time we danced was at Downton, the night before the Games," she said softly close to his ear.

"It seems as if it was a lifetime ago," he responded with a sigh. "I've thought about those days so many times over the years, wondering how you were."

"Still, you never came to visit."

"I didn't know if I would be welcome," he said sadly. "Mother and Cousin Violet really did not get along at all. And after what happened… Cousin Cora…" He sighed and closed his eyes. "It was just too difficult, Mary."

"Don't I know it," Mary said, pulling back to look him in the eye. "But we did get along so well."

He smiled fondly and nodded. "We did. You are still the bravest and most beautiful girl I've ever known, Mary."

"Oh Matthew, you should not say things like that," she smiled sadly. "There are so many more fish in the sea, most of them far more prosperous and agreeable than I am."

"Never," he whispered and pulled her closer. "If anything, what I felt for you as a boy has only intensified over the years."

"Matthew, please do not say things like that unless you mean them," she pled with him, eyes drifting closed. "And even so, you really should not. I am not a good match. I have no fortune, no large dowry, and… I am not virtuous."

"Mary!" he exclaimed and stared at her. "We are both responsible for what happened between us. I have the highest respect for you. I always have and I always will."

"Please Matthew, let's not quarrel. Not tonight. Let's just be happy that we are together again."

He smiled at her and nodded. "Of course. And believe me, Mary, I truly am very happy to see you again."

~ O ~

He had steered her outside into the garden. Walking slowly next to each other, they talked softly. Mary thought that it felt almost like during those wondrous days that summer when he had stayed at Downton. She looked up at his handsome face, and he smiled at her. She returned it and he stopped, taking her hands.

"God Mary, I cannot believe that you're actually here," he said with a chuckle.

"Well, I am," she teased.

"How long will you be staying in London?"

"Another week I guess. Why?"

"I wonder if I might call on you tomorrow to go for a walk." His face flushed a little pink as he looked at her, clearly uncertain of how she would respond.

"I think I would enjoy that very much." She glanced away, but a smile was playing on her lips.

"I noticed Edith dancing with Patrick," he said, looking back at the open doors where soft music filtered through.

"Yes. She is as besotted as ever with him. Not that it will get her very far, I'm afraid."

"And why is that?"

Mary sighed and closed her eyes. "Papa does not want Edith to marry Patrick."

"Why on earth not? He seems like a perfectly good match." Matthew frowned at her.

"Oh he is," she agreed. "Just not for Edith."

"Then for whom?" he asked, waiting for her to explain. "Surely he is not still…"

"Me," she interrupted, nodding in confirmation.

Matthew just stared at her. When she avoided looking at him, he gently cupped her chin and turned her face his way. He gasped when their eyes met. She was fighting tears, her lip trembling. Matthew did the only thing he could think of; he pulled her into his arms and just held her. She clung to him, trembling and pressing her forehead against his shoulder.

"It's all right," he hushed and stroked her back. "Everything will be all right."

"But don't you see?" she exclaimed. "It is not all right, and it never will be."

Matthew rested his cheek against her temple and sighed. "Then I must make it right."

"Matthew, I am only nineteen. Papa must give his approval."

"Have you accepted Patrick yet?"

She shook her head. "No, but they are pressuring me to."

"Can you not say that you're not ready? You are still very young."

"Not really. Most of my friends my age are already married or engaged."

"You're not them, Mary," he said gently. "You never have to do what other people do. You're strong, smart, and beautiful. Make your own rules. I know you can. The girl I once knew could."

"She was foolishly naïve," Mary muttered.

Matthew chuckled and his eyes twinkled. "Even so, I found her impossible to forget."

"Oh Matthew," she whispered and reached up to touch his cheek.

He leaned closer and brushed his lips against hers in a soft kiss. As much as he wanted to deepen it, he knew he could not. If he did, he would want more, so much more. She sighed against his lips, and he trembled at the feel of it. He pulled her closer still.

A cheer from inside made them break apart, and they stared at each other for a moment. Mary's hands rested on his chest; his still held her waist. He stroked slowly over her slim frame, drawing a smile from her lips.

"I will still call on you tomorrow," he whispered.

"I look forward to it."

He tucked her arm under his and escorted her back inside.

~ O ~

Cora spotted them, and her brow furrowed when she saw the look on Mary's face as she gazed at Matthew. Quickly drawing Robert's attention, Cora made him face away from Mary, preventing him from seeing their daughter's obvious happiness at seeing Matthew again.

~ O ~

Mary had felt her mother's eyes on her all the way back to Grantham House. Claiming fatigue, she hurried upstairs and rang for Anna. She could hear her father laughing in the hallway outside as he and Cora passed by on the way to their room. Apparently, Lord Grantham was in a very good mood tonight. For once, Mary was incredibly thankful for her parents' affection for each other since it would most definitely prevent her mother from visiting her this evening.

Anna, always sensitive to Mary's mood, had made quick work of her dress, and once Mary was ready for bed, she had bid her mistress goodnight with a polite smile and bob of her head.

Mary glanced up at the bed canopy above her for a long moment before closing her eyes, trying to bring forth his image in her mind. The never-ending sounds of the city filtered through the closed window, disturbing her thoughts. At Downton it was quiet at night, but here in London, it seemed as if someone was always awake. At first, it had made it hard for her to sleep, but, as the days and weeks passed by, she started to get used to it.

Mary sighed and touched her lips. She had kissed Matthew again, and it was just as wonderful as she remembered. Her hand moved down over her chest, stroking lightly over her breast. She smiled, wondering what he would think of her breasts now. He had been right; they had indeed grown. Not by much, but now she could at least say that she had breasts. Her index finger stroked over the nipple, and her breath hitched as a flash of heat went straight down to her center. Mary swallowed and did it again.

Closing her eyes, she thought of Matthew, imagining that it was his hand that yet again touched her breast, caressed her body, and pulled her nightgown up over her hips. She gasped, and her eyes opened in shock for a moment as if her sound had brought someone into her room. The room was just as dark and silent as before. Mary moved her hand down over her stomach and touched the hair covering her sex. She stroked over it and raised her knees, biting her lip as she moved her finger lower, finally touching her soft folds.

Mary blushed at the daring thought of touching herself. She knew it was not something a lady should do or even know about. Her brow furrowed as she pressed her finger a little firmer against that spot that made her tingle so pleasantly. She smiled as she remembered Matthew's tongue stroking over it so gently the first time. She clapped her hand over her mouth when she heard herself whimper softly. Dipping her finger lower, she felt wetness - her _essence_ he had called it. She moved her finger back up and circled the spot, going faster and faster, gasping softly in the quiet room. Her eyes shut tightly when her body tensed in release, and she heard herself whisper his name. _Matthew_.

~ O ~

Matthew sighed in frustration and opened his eyes. Every time he closed them, all he could see was Mary's face in the heat of passion. Her faint little sounds rang in his ears, and he could feel her tremble under him. Tossing back the covers in frustration, Matthew sat up in bed. He was hot and aroused to the point of pain. Matthew pushed his pajamas down, and his manhood bounced free. He gasped and closed his fingers around it.

It all came back to him so easily. _Mary_. Her soft lips, her scent, the feel of her slender fingers on him, her mouth… closing around him. Matthew gritted his teeth and his hand moved faster, squeezing tighter around his aching member. It was over in mere minutes. He gasped her name as he erupted into an orgasm so powerful he saw white spots behind his eyelids. Wiping himself clean on the sheet, he pulled up his pajama trousers and turned over, feeling guilty and ashamed. Mary should be so much more than a memory he used to relieve himself to. His friends at school had kept pictures of movie stars hidden under the mattress for this purpose. He had always had Mary. He only needed Mary.

Matthew fell asleep, tossing and turning as she flitted in and out of his dreams. He mumbled her name softly and reached for her, but every time he got close, she slipped away like a mirage.

~ O ~


	2. Grantham House

**Chapter 2 – Grantham House**

Matthew was received with smiles and warm words of welcome at Grantham House. Sybil squealed and threw herself into his arms. He swung her around just like he had done so many times that first Christmas. It only vaguely occurred to him that Sybil was now the same age Mary had been when they had first met. Sybil smiled up at him with so much adoration. He caressed her cheek and she giggled.

"I've missed you so very much, Matthew," she said and took his hand.

"You have grown up to be quite a little lady," he teased her.

"Matthew," she sighed, rolling her eyes. For a moment, she looked very much like her eldest sister.

Matthew laughed and tugged her close against his side. He looked down at her, and they laughed together. Then something made him look up and there she was. _His Mary_. She was smiling at them, her eyes filled with joy at seeing him. It made his heart skip a beat, and he took a step towards her in anticipation.

"Mary!" Sybil said excitedly. "Matthew is here."

"I can see that, darling," she said indulgently and caressed Sybil's hair. She leaned down closer. "I danced with him last night."

"You did?" Sybil whispered before glancing up at Matthew.

"She was gracious enough to grant me a dance," Matthew confirmed with a wink.

"He's a bit better now, actually," Mary teased, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "I think he only stepped on my toes twice."

Sybil laughed and covered her mouth. Matthew made a face at Mary, earning an amused chuckle.

"I will never accuse a lady of lying in front of her younger sister, but I could try blaming your inaccuracy on too much champagne."

"As if I ever would," Mary huffed.

"Girls, stop badgering Matthew, and let him come and sit down," Lord Grantham admonished, smiling at the scene of Matthew with his two daughters.

"Come." Sybil took Matthew's hand, pulling him into the drawing room.

They talked for a while as they waited for tea to be served. Matthew felt a little flustered at first when they bombarded him with questions about his life. Realizing that they genuinely wanted to know, he started to relax. He caught Cora looking at him in a very thoughtful way at one point and swallowed nervously. She kept silent, but he knew instinctively that she had not forgotten what she had witnessed that day at Downton. He could only hope that she had begun to forgive him for kissing her daughter.

"I was wondering, Cousin Robert, if you would allow me to take Mary for a walk this afternoon?" he asked, smiling in Robert's direction.

Lord Grantham's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced at Mary. She smiled and looked so hopeful that he almost laughed. He nodded.

"Oh course, my boy."

"Thank you, Papa." Mary jumped to her feet. "I will only be a moment."

Matthew got up and watched her leave. Sybil sat down next to him and started to tell him all the news from Downton. He laughed at the familiar feeling of it, so glad to see her again.

~ O ~

Matthew held his head up high as he proudly walked with Mary on his arm. The day was warm, but not overly so. Mary still carried a pale umbrella to shade her sensitive skin from the sun. He glanced at her now and then, smiling when she caught him looking. He again felt some guilt for his thoughts about her the night before. Pushing it aside when he felt arousal stir inside him, he looked out over the little lake, watching a family of ducks swimming nearby.

"I've missed you," he whispered.

"Oh Matthew. If only you knew how much I've missed you."

"I was so sad to leave without even saying a proper goodbye to you," he confessed, finally able to tell her in person. He looked her in the eyes. "I was also terribly frightened that our actions had led to complicated circumstances for you."

She nodded and looked away. "Do you regret it?"

He gently touched her chin and met her dark eyes. He shook his head. "No, I don't. It was the most incredible experience I've ever had. It still is."

"Thank you," she whispered. She sighed and looked out over the lake. "So many times over these past few years, I've worried that you had changed your mind, thinking me wicked and less than virtuous."

"Oh Mary," he sighed, taking her hands in his. More than anything, he wanted to hold her, but it was not possible in such a public place. "You are the most special and wonderful person I've ever known. The gift you gave me… I will cherish it always. You have a very special place in my heart because of it."

Mary swallowed, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. "I've thought of it, of you," she breathed.

"So have I."

"If we could, would you want me again?" she said so softly he had to lean closer to hear.

Matthew swallowed, flushing hot all over. She looked up at him, and he nodded very slowly. "Without hesitation."

He led her over to a bench under a weeping willow. They sat perhaps a little too close, but neither of them cared what passersby might think. He took her hands again, and she sighed.

"Last night," she spoke softly, "I thought of you."

"Of us?"

She nodded. "I imagined that it was your hand on me and not my own." She looked away, afraid of his reaction.

"God, Mary," he gasped and his hold on her hands tightened. "I wish it had been."

"You really do?"

He took a deep breath. "After seeing you again, holding you… kissing you...I was nearly in pain with the strength of my feelings," he said quickly. "I needed release. Please forgive me... but it was your hand and your lips that I imagined giving it."

Mary blushed and looked down at their clasped hands and how they held on to each other in an almost painful desperation.

"It is dangerous for us to be alone together, Mary," he said seriously. "What I feel for you is so strong I fear that it will tear my soul apart. Seeing you only makes the temptation so much stronger."

"I know," she whispered. "Even at this very moment I want to feel your hands on me."

He trembled and moved a little on the bench, his trousers suddenly feeling much too tight and uncomfortable. As if realizing what was happening to him, Mary smiled a little.

"It is a good thing that we can't," he said, but she could tell that he did not really mean it.

"I want you, Matthew," she sighed. "More than anything in the world."

"God, Mary, I want you too, so very, very much."

"Ask Papa. Patrick has not formally asked him yet, or me for that matter. Everyone expects it, but we've never taken any of the proper steps."

"Do you think he will give his permission?"

"I honestly don't know," she said with a sigh before glancing up at him. "He seemed very impressed with you and your studies."

"l start an apprenticeship in a law firm in Manchester come autumn," he spoke hurriedly, feeling a need to further convince her. "It will earn me a small stipend to start with. That and my inheritance, which I will receive in the spring when I turn twenty-one, should make it possible for me to provide for us."

"If Papa gives his permission, he will give me some money. I also have an inheritance from Grandpapa in America which will become mine when I marry, or when I turn twenty-one."

"Would you want a life as the wife of a middle-class solicitor from Manchester?" he asked, his tone betraying the worry he harbored.

"I want a life as your wife, Matthew," she said assertively. "I love Downton, and I will miss it terribly, but I would miss you more," she added with a sad smile.

"If he gives his permission, perhaps we could marry before Christmas," Matthew said, his smile growing at the prospect.

"Oh, how I wish it could be," she sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Two elderly ladies passing by on the walkway, glared at them and huffed their disapproval at their closeness. Mary chuckled, and Matthew put his arm around her.

~ O ~

Matthew stared at Robert, waiting for him to answer. Lord Grantham's face had turned ashen when Matthew had voiced his request.

"Matthew," Robert sighed, "have you really thought this through?"

"I have."

"You are both so very young." Robert shook his head. "Mary is used to a certain life, one that I cannot see you providing for her."

"She knows that, and she is willing to marry me anyway."

Robert closed his eyes and saw Mary's life, the one he had hoped for her, crumble to dust.

"Would you rather that she marries Patrick, a man she doesn't love, only so that she can continue living the life of a daughter of Downton?" Matthew asked.

Robert turned around and glared at him. Noticing the sad look on Matthew's face, Robert instantly understood that Matthew's words had not been sarcastic, but instead sad, terribly sad.

"No, of course not," Robert said tiredly and ran his hand over his face. "Very well, I will give my permission. I know that you're an honorable man, Matthew. You have a bright future, I am sure of it. Just remember that you are very lucky to have my daughter's love."

"I know, and I am," Matthew said, his eyes filled with so much happiness and love it made Robert chuckle.

"One last thing." Robert gestured for Matthew to have a seat. "There will be some money. I need to discuss it with my lawyer before I make any specific promises."

"That is quite all right, Cousin Robert. I intend to provide for the both of us."

"I know, but I also know that starting out right will make all the difference, my boy. Mary is not the easiest girl to please."

"We became friends that Christmas when you invited Mother and me to Downton, Cousin Robert. But it was really the following summer that we both realized how connected we were. I've tried to forget about her, but it has been absolutely in vain. I would rather die than hurt Mary in any way."

"I do remember," Robert said softly. "I also remember how my daughters thought you their hero, even back then." He grinned at Matthew. "I don't know if Sybil will be more thrilled or jealous."

Matthew laughed and nodded. "I adore her. She will break so many hearts."

Robert chuckled and nodded. "I just hope that she will be my little girl for a while longer."

"I think if you let her, she will always be your little girl, even when she's married and has a family of her own."

"Well said, Matthew," Robert said and nodded. He looked up. "So, shall I send Mary in? Are you ready to ask her properly?"

Matthew nodded. "I am."

Robert held out his hand, and Matthew took it, shaking it firmly. "Mary is marrying a good man. I am happy for you, truly I am. I would be lying if I said that I was not worried about your future, but I know that you're both strong and stubborn. You will make a wonderful life together." He smiled and patted Matthew on the shoulder. "You must promise to come to Downton to visit as often as you can, or I fear that Cora will be very cross with you," he teased. "Especially once you have children."

Matthew blushed furiously, drawing a laugh from Robert. "We will," he said.

~ O ~

Mary's head was spinning. She was engaged to Matthew. It had all happened so fast. She turned and smiled at him as he entered the room. It was late, and the rest of the family had gone to bed. She walked into his open arms and rested her head on his shoulder.

"I am the happiest man in the world," he whispered and kissed the top of her head.

"I can't believe it." She pulled back slightly to look up at him. "We're getting married in September."

Matthew laughed and nodded. He kissed her and sighed when she wrapped her arms around his neck. Picking her up, he swung her around, just so happy that he could.

"I wish you could stay," she said softly, close to his ear.

"I am coming up to Downton in a few weeks for the garden party. I will be staying for a week. If your father allows it, I would like to come for another visit in August."

She nodded. "I'm sure he will."

"Perhaps you will come to my room while I'm there?" he teased.

Mary blushed and nodded. "I think I might be persuaded to, though, I warn you, Mr. Crawley, there's no taking advantage of me until after the wedding."

"I agree," he said, pulling her over to one of the armchairs by the fireplace.

Matthew sat down, and pulled her down on his lap. She rested her hands on his chest and he smiled at her. He ran his hand up and down her side, squeezing her hip before settling on her thigh.

"I cannot wait to feel your skin against me again," he whispered.

"God, Matthew," she gasped as her eyes fluttered closed.

He pulled her down and kissed her hard. "To touch you, to taste you," he whispered in her ear. "To hear your little sounds as you enjoy my touch."

She was trembling in his arms, and he gently pulled her skirt up so he could feel her leg. He stroked over her silky stockings up to where he could touch her uncovered thigh. She bit her lip as he squeezed her soft flesh. He tightened his grip on her and then slipped his hand higher, under her silky undergarments. He gasped when he felt how ready she was. They looked at each other, and she blushed. He stroked very gently and she sighed, her grip on his shoulders tightened, and her head fell back. He pressed his other hand firmly against her back and covered her slender neck with kisses. She whimpered softly when he circled her little spot.

A door closing somewhere in the house startled them, and he pulled his hand away.

"I'm so sorry, Mary," he apologized, his face betraying his mortification with his actions. "I allowed myself to get carried away."

"I wanted it too, Matthew," she said and stroked his cheek.

Matthew nodded. "I should go before your father finds us like this and throws me out," he joked.

Mary chuckled and nestled closer in his arms. "I really don't want you to."

"You know how difficult it would be to resist temptation now," he whispered and kissed her temple.

Mary nodded before easing off his lap. "I will count the days until we meet at Downton."

Matthew laughed and pulled her close once more, kissing her firmly.

~ O ~

Matthew stood for a moment, just watching Mary ascend the stairs. She stopped at the top and turned his way, blowing him a kiss. He chuckled and touched his heart. With a last little wave, she disappeared. He took a deep breath and pulled at his waistcoat before turning to leave. A noise behind him made him start. His eyebrows shot up at the sight of the young man standing there.

"Cousin Patrick!"

"So you did get the girl in the end, Matthew," Patrick said seriously as he stepped out of the shadows, a cognac snifter in hand.

"I suppose I did," Matthew said with a grin.

Patrick grabbed Matthew's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm happy for you. Truly I am. I don't know what Robert said to you earlier, but I cannot imagine that he wasn't at least a little concerned about your future with Mary."

"You're right of course," Matthew said with a sigh.

"Come, have a drink with me."

Matthew nodded and followed Patrick into Lord Grantham's smoking room. Patrick put down his glass and poured Matthew a drink. Reaching for his own, he raised it in a toast.

"To my cousins, Mary and Matthew. May they be happy!"

Matthew grinned and raised his glass. "Thank you."

Patrick sank down in one of the two armchairs by the fireplace, waving for Matthew to take the other. "I really am pleased for you, you know."

"I know," Matthew responded, resting his glass on the armrest. He looked over at Patrick. "I suspect that they are more than a little disappointed that you're not the one marrying Mary."

"Perhaps, but you can make her happier," Patrick said sternly. "Not to mention, I won't have to share a bed with a woman who secretly wishes that I was someone else."

"I'd never thought of that," Matthew said honestly.

"I didn't think so," Patrick said with a hollow laugh. "Mary is not the only one who has been pushed into a marriage of convenience since childhood, you know."

"So, now what?" Matthew took a big sip, needing the strength from the alcohol. "Edith?"

Patrick laughed and shook his head. "I'm afraid not. You see, Mary I could imagine as my wife. Edith on the other hand, no. We are just too close. It would feel like marrying my sister."

Matthew made a face of horror which made Patrick laugh. "Crikey."

"Exactly," Patrick took another sip. "Besides, I think I may have just fallen in love."

"What?" Matthew's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"Hush!" Patrick hissed. "You'll wake up the whole family."

"Who is she?"

"Lady Annabelle Napier."

"I don't believe that I know her," Matthew said with a frown.

"She's the daughter of Viscount Branksome."

"Viscount Branksome? That sounds familiar."

"You might have heard of her brother, Evelyn Napier?"

"Yes, that's it!" Matthew nodded as the puzzle pieces fell into place. "Mary has spoken about him a few times."

"He's a good friend of the family. His and Annabelle's mother and Cora are old friends. Evelyn is keen on hunting and riding, so he's been at Downton for both the annual hunt and the New Year's shoot."

"I see. I don't remember him from the Christmas I spent at Downton."

"He wasn't there that Christmas. His mother was ill. Lady Branksome is not a strong woman, you see. The family chose to have a quiet holiday at home that year."

"I hope she is better."

Patrick shrugged. "As I said, she's not a strong woman. She was terribly ill when she was younger and it seems as if it has affected her lungs. Before Annabelle was born, she was on bed rest for months."

"I'm so sorry to hear that." He tilted his head and grinned at Patrick. "So, when will I get to meet this lovely Lady Annabelle?"

"At Downton," Patrick answered with a grin. "I plan on asking her to marry me after the garden party."

"You do?"

"I would do it sooner, but she is abroad. Annabelle and her mother have spent the winter and spring at the Kurhaus in Baden-Baden."

"I've heard of it being an excellent spa and place for recovery after illness," Matthew butted in.

"Exactly. They are returning at the end of the month, just in time for the Downton Garden Party."

"I can't wait to meet her."

Patrick raised his glass. "To both our futures!"

_**To be continued…**_


	3. Returning to Downton

**Thank you so much for your lovely reviews and comments. With all the ups and down, sadness and changes of S3, perhaps it will be nice to escape to this AU with its younger and more carefree Mary & Matthew.**

**R. Grace has yet again offered her masterful editing skills while my regular beta is recuperating. Her suggestions made this chapter better and more interesting. I have run some future ideas by her that she wholeheartedly approved of. I hope you will enjoy them too.**

**Please keep commenting and let me know what you like and what you would like to see happen. There will be ups and downs, but I promise you a happy ending. Canon is giving you enough heartache and grief at the moment so in at least this story there will be no major drama.**

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**Chapter 3 – Returning to Downton**

The days leading up to the annual Downton garden party were a blur for Mary. She had been to London twice with her mother and Anna to visit the dressmaker. Lord Grantham had rolled his eyes at his wife when Cora had put her foot down about Mary's dress.

"Robert, Mary is your eldest daughter. This is the first wedding at Downton since your sister's wedding. It is a huge deal."

"Don't tell me what I already know," he huffed. "Mama has been pestering me to no end with it."

"Then _listen_ and try to understand," she said, perhaps a bit sharper than intended. "Mary's wedding is already rumored to be the biggest event of the summer. She simply must have the most beautiful dress possible. You don't want her to be ridiculed and for people to laugh at her behind her back, do you?"

"Cora! That was uncalled for. You know I only want what's best for Mary."

"Fine. I'm taking her to London, and that's the end of it."

Mary was secretly glad that her dress was being made in London and not in Ripon. Ever since she was a little girl, all Mary's dresses had been made by the same woman in Ripon. The woman, a Mrs. Winters, knew Mary's measurements and body better than Mary herself did. What had Mary concerned about her was the woman's propensity to gossip. Every time Mary had visited with her mother, Mrs. Winters had been telling Lady Grantham about all the latest scandals in the area. Mrs. Winters knew which women had put on weight, who might be rushing to get married because her midsection was starting to fill out, and who was struggling financially, forcing the lady to opt for fewer garments and lower quality fabric.

As a girl, Mary had been pleased when Mrs. Winters had told her about other dresses she was making. It had, on more than one occasion, prevented Mary from ending up with a dress similar to one of her friends. As she grew older, Mary began to realize that most likely Mrs. Winters was sharing stories about her and her dresses with her other clients. With this in mind, Mary understood her mother's concern that any knowledge of Lady Mary Crawley's wedding dress would be too tempting for the seamstress to be able to keep a secret.

~ O ~

Fourteen-year-old Lady Sybil was lounging on her sister's bed, watching Mary brush her hair. She smiled when Mary met her eyes in the mirror.

"I'm so glad that you're back, Mary."

"Of course, darling. I have missed you too."

"It is so incredibly boring here," Sybil lamented with a sigh.

Mary rolled her eyes at her little sister's dramatic exaggeration.

"Well, it's good for you then that I'm back and that the garden party is only a week away."

"Don't I know it!"

Sybil sat up and looked at Mary. She picked up her braid and absentmindedly chewed on the end.

"Sybil! Stop it!"

Sybil made a face and let go of her hair. "Did you see Matthew in London?"

"No." Mary frowned. "Why should I? He's back home in Manchester. He and Isobel left as soon as the Season was over."

"I just thought that… well, you know…"

Mary chuckled. "I miss him of course."

Sybil giggled. "Do tell me about him, Mary. What is it like to be in love?"

Mary got up and sat down next to her sister, putting her arm around Sybil's shoulders.

"It's the most wonderful thing in the world!" She smiled at Sybil before continuing. "I have butterflies in my stomach all the time, yet I never want it to end."

"It sounds simply wonderful," Sybil gasped. She chewed on her lip and eyed Mary. "Has he kissed you?" she whispered.

Mary nodded. "Yes, he has."

"Mary!" Sybil squealed. "Tell me! What was it like?"

"Wonderful! Simply wonderful."

"Does it feel like you can't breathe and might faint?"

"No, darling. It feels like those butterflies have been drinking champagne and are dancing around with joy, making my heart flutter with happiness."

"Oh…" Sybil frowned, not quite able to comprehend her sister's cryptic description.

"You'll understand some day," Mary explained, reaching down to tuck a stray lock of Sybil's hair behind her ear.

"I can't wait!" Sybil jumped up and threw her arms out wide as she slowly twirled around. "To feel his arms around me as he holds me tight and kisses me."

Mary laughed and shook her head. "Goodness, Sybil, what have you been reading?"

"I found this book in Freuline's room a while back," Sybil said in a hushed voice and grinned mischievously. "It was a romance novel, but not like anything I've ever read before."

"Sybil!" Mary gasped. "You shouldn't be reading books like that. What would Papa say if he found out?"

"Well, he won't!" Sybil said stubbornly. "Not unless you tell him."

"Won't she miss it?"

"She already has, but it's not as if she can go and ask Mama or Papa about it now, is it?"

"Of course not." Mary rolled her eyes. "Just promise to be careful, darling. And do get rid of it when you're done with it."

"Do you think I will find someone who loves me as much as Matthew loves you?" Sybil asked, serious now as she sat down next to Mary.

"Of course you will. You're the youngest, Sybil. You can marry almost anyone you like."

"Do you really think so?"

Mary shrugged. "I don't see why not. As long as he's an appropriate match."

Sybil made a face. "For Papa. Which is so unfair. I mean, it's not Papa who's marrying him and has to live with him, so why should it matter more what he thinks?"

Mary had no good answer to Sybil's question. As much as Mary agreed with Sybil, the sad truth was that Sybil would not be able to marry without her father's consent until she was twenty-one, just like everyone else.

~ O ~

Unlike in years to come, the 1911 Downton Abbey Garden Party marked the beginning of summer, not the height of it. The rose garden was at its prime at this time of year, and the entire estate glimmered like an emerald gem. The house buzzed with activity as Mrs. Hughes and Mr. Carson commanded the troops around. Under the large tent on the lawn outside, tables and chairs waited for noble guests. Another smaller tent nearby would serve as a holding station for food from the kitchen. Mr. Carson had supervised the setup of various wines and cordials earlier that morning. Glasses for each beverage were lined up in preparation for service.

"Thomas!"

"Yes, Mr. Carson?"

"Where are the sherry glasses that I asked you to bring out?"

"They were all covered in dust, Mr. Carson, so I brought them downstairs to the kitchen. I'll go and get them right now."

Mr. Carson huffed and nodded curtly at the cheerful footman. He watched Thomas leave, headed for the kitchen. Thomas was an instigator, and as Mrs. Hughes had commented on more than once, '_quite full of cheek'_. Carson checked the time again. Mr. Crawley was expected in less than half an hour. The carriage had been sent down to the train station a little while ago.

"Good morning, Carson."

He smiled at the sound of her cheerful voice. "Good morning, Lady Mary."

"Isn't it a gorgeous day?"

"It certainly is, my lady."

Mary glanced around, watching the flurry of activity. "You have, as always, done a wonderful job, Carson."

"Certainly, my lady."

"Mama will be most pleased."

He nodded his thanks for the praise, hands clasped behind his back as the two stood side by side watching the transformation taking place on the lawn. Finally, Mary turned and smiled at him.

"I'd better go back inside. My fiancé is arriving shortly. I would be remiss in my duties if I am not there to greet him."

"Of course. I am sure that he is very much looking forward to seeing you again, my lady."

Mary smiled and gently squeezed Carson's arm. "Thank you."

~ O ~

As their carriage came to a complete stop by the front entrance to Downton Abbey, Matthew could hardly hold back his excitement when he spotted Mary standing next to Lady Grantham, waiting to welcome them. If it had not been a terrible breech of etiquette, Matthew would have pushed past his mother and exited first. Instead he sat back, watching Thomas help Isobel out of the carriage. He heard her thank the footman and took that as his cue to get out. As he straightened up, his head held up high, he caught the little smile on Mary's lips and the twinkle in her eyes. It was only there for a brief moment before she again put on the face of the regal Lady Mary, daughter of Downton.

"Isobel. Matthew. Welcome back to Downton."

"Thank you, Cousin Cora." Matthew smiled at her as he met her eyes.

"How lovely it looks," Isobel said cheerfully as she glanced around. "Much different from the gloominess of winter."

"Early summer has Downton at its best," Mary said, smiling at her future mother-in-law. "I am so glad that you're here, Cousin Isobel."

"Mary, my sweet girl, it is wonderful to see you again. Matthew has done nothing but talk about you since returning from London."

Mary blushed and shot Matthew a quick glance. "I am pleased that he hasn't forgotten about me," she teased.

"On the contrary, my dear," Isobel responded, stepping closer. "I think the heart truly has grown fonder with the distance." She opened her arms to Mary. "Mary, you are to be my daughter-in-law, and I am so very pleased."

"Thank you," Mary whispered as she embraced Isobel.

"Please, come inside. There are refreshments in the drawing room," Cora said, gesturing for them to enter. "Your rooms are ready for you whenever you want to change."

The four entered with Thomas in tow. The footman's eyes narrowed at the sight of Matthew gently touching Mary, placing his hand on the small of her back.

"Master Matthew, I will see to it that your things are brought to your room right away."

"Thank you Thomas. It is nice to see you again. You look well."

"I am, thank you."

Matthew nodded and then quickly hurried across the grand hallway to catch up with the ladies.

~ O ~

As the small party dissolved to get changed, Isobel took Mary's arm, happily chatting with her as the two left the room together. Mary glanced at Matthew over her shoulder. He gave her a smoldering look and she willed herself not to gasp as she felt the effect of the fire in his eyes.

"Matthew?"

"Yes, Cousin Cora?"

"A word, please."

Matthew nodded and approached Lady Grantham. They were now the only two people left in the drawing room.

"Well, I'm just going to come out and say it, Matthew," Cora said rather sharply. "I know what happened the last time. Between you and Mary."

His eyes widened. _Just how much had Mary told her mother?_ "I see."

"Please know that your being engaged to my daughter changes nothing," Cora went on. "Mary is the daughter of an earl. Over my dead body will she walk down the aisle carrying your child."

"Cousin Cora!" Matthew gasped, his eyes wide in shock. "I would never!"

"Oh? Last time you were at Downton you spent time in Mary's room at night. I guess I should be grateful that the two of you at least had some sense of good judgment." Cora closed her eyes and slowly shook her head, shivering at the horrible thought of a rushed marriage.

"I give you my word," he said gently. "I will not violate your trust, or Mary's virtue."

"I hope you mean that, Matthew," she said sternly and met his eyes. "I will be watching you."

He nodded and ran his hand over his face. "I hope you don't intend for me to completely stay away from Mary."

"Of course not! But late night rendez vous are out of the question. Mary will be closely chaperoned."

Matthew nodded. "Of course."

Cora noticed the miserable look on his face and could not help but smile a little. "But I guess it wouldn't hurt for me to turn my back on you for a few minutes now and then?"

Matthew's eyebrows shot up and he blushed furiously at the teasing smile aimed at him. "I… I suppose not," he choked out.

"Now do hurry upstairs, my dear. Mary would be very upset if you're late to escort her to the party."

He held her gaze for a moment and finally nodded. "Thank you, Cousin Cora. Please know that I love Mary very much, and I have every intention of making her happy."

~ O ~

Matthew looked around for Mary, finally spotting her in conversation with Lord Merton. He had been introduced to Mary's godfather earlier and instantly liked the man. The same could not be said for the man's son, Larry. For some unknown reason, Matthew did not like the young man. Larry Grey appeared to be younger than Mary; Matthew assessed him to be of an age with Edith.

"There you are, darling."

Mary beamed at him as he took her outstretched hands. She stepped closer to him, and he took pride in her clear enjoyment of being by his side. Lord Merton chuckled and Matthew met the man's amused eyes.

"Young love," he mused, raising his glass to them. "The sight makes us all feel young again. From what I can tell, Mary has found a good man in you, Mr. Crawley."

"Thank you, Lord Merton. I must say that I find myself the luckiest man in the world to have Mary's love."

"Well said." Lord Merton patted Matthew's shoulder, chuckling amusedly at the two. "Well, I will leave you alone. I'm sure that you would not miss me much."

"Of course I would," Mary said and reached up to place a kiss on his cheek. "I am so glad that you approve of Matthew. He will make me happy. I know it."

Lord Merton nodded and met Matthew's eyes for a long moment before making a polite excuse to head over to Lord Grantham.

~ O ~

Larry Grey sipped his champagne as he scanned the crowd. He had not exactly looked forward to the annual Downton Garden Party. In his opinion, it was just a gathering of old, stuffy friends of his parents. The only appeal, he mused, lay with the Crawley sisters. His eyes landed on Mary who was laughing at something Matthew said. Larry had always been a little in awe of Mary, almost to the point of feeling intimidated, not that he would admit to it. Edith passed by, crossing his line of sight, and he frowned. Well, perhaps Edith was not exactly his ideal woman, most definitely the blandest of the three Crawley girls. He sipped his drink again and sought out the Crawley he liked best - Lady Sybil. She was laughing, and her dark locks danced as she moved her head. With a determined smirk, Larry set out across the lawn to pursue Lady Sybil Crawley.

~ O ~

"Larry!" Sybil smiled at the tall, dark-haired young man standing in front of her, offering her a glass of champagne. "I looked for you, but I couldn't see you anywhere. I thought perhaps that you had decided not to come."

"Of course not, Sybil," he drawled. "Why would I want to miss the opportunity to see my favorite Crawley and bask in her beauty and charm?"

Sybil blushed and quickly sipped her champagne. Larry offered her his arm and she linked hers through his. They walked together, speaking softly. Larry put on all his charm and had Sybil laughing and leaning closer. Pulling her behind a tent, he leaned in and kissed her. She instantly pulled back, staring at him.

"Larry! That's not appropriate."

"Oh, come now Sybil," he teased. "Surely you're old enough to be kissed."

He took her glass from her and tossed it into some nearby bushes.

"Larry, that was one of Papa's crystal glasses." Sybil stared at him in shock.

"So what? He can afford to buy a new one."

Sybil opened her mouth to protest, but he pulled her close and pressed his lips against hers again. At first, she pushed against his chest, but as the kiss continued, she started to respond. Feeling bolder, Larry pulled at her dress until he could touch her leg. Sybil whimpered softly and her eyes widened as his hand moved over her thigh.

~ O ~

"Where's Sybil?"

Mary looked around for her younger sister. Matthew suddenly felt same uneasy feeling he had earlier. He scanned the crowd, hoping in vain to find Sybil. Mary felt his distress and started to worry. He took Mary's hand, and together they hurried past friends and family in search for Mary's little sister.

While looking for Sybil, Matthew also tried to locate Larry Grey. Realizing that the young man was also missing, Matthew tugged at Mary's hand, increasing their speed. She tried to slow him down, but Matthew now knew that something was not right.

~ O ~

"Larry," Sybil gasped. "Please, don't."

"You're so beautiful," he gasped against her neck. "How I desire you."

"Get your hands off her!"

Larry cried out as he was pulled away from Sybil. Recognizing his assailant as Matthew Crawley, he laughed.

"One Crawley girl not enough for you?"

Matthew's anger surged, and his arm drew back so fast that neither Mary nor Larry realized what was about to happen until Matthew's fist connected with Larry's nose.

"Matthew!"

Sybil screamed and clung to Mary. Matthew braced himself when Larry charged him and the two tumbled down in the grass. They rolled around, each trying to get the upper hand. The brawl only lasted for about a minute before Carson appeared with Lord Grantham hurrying behind him.

"Break this up, at once!"

"Larry!" Lord Merton exclaimed, shocked to discover that his son was part of the fight.

"He struck me, Father!" Larry yelled before wiping his bleeding nose on his sleeve.

"Matthew!" Lord Grantham gasped, turning to Matthew for an explanation.

"Matthew was defending Sybil's honor," Mary said in a voice so cold that the four men froze and turned, staring at her.

Mary was still holding Sybil who was hiding her face against her sister's shoulder. Matthew took a step towards them and gently touched Sybil's shoulder. She flinched, and his hand immediately dropped to his side.

"I'm sorry," he said in a soft whisper.

"Oh, Matthew." Sybil turned to him, throwing her arms around his neck. "Thank you."

Lord Merton grabbed his son's arm before he could leave.

"What did you do?"

"I only kissed her, father," he muttered. He defiantly met his father's eyes. "We're friends, and I thought that things were starting to progress into something more. Obviously, I was mistaken."

"It appears that you owe both Lord Grantham and Lady Sybil an apology, son."

"I'm sorry," Larry offered sullenly.

Matthew's hands balled into fists. Larry had done much more than simply kiss Sybil. He was just about to say so, when Mary gently touched his arm, shaking her head. Noticing Sybil's fearful eyes behind her sister, Matthew nodded and smiled at the two. Sybil let out a sigh of relief and moved closer to him.

As Lord Merton and his son left, and the crowd that had gathered went back to sipping champagne and nibbling on hors d'oeuvres, Lord Grantham turned to his two daughters and Matthew.

"Sybil, what really happened?"

"Please, Papa," she whispered.

"Did he...?" Lord Grantham's voice rose and his face took on a dangerous color.

"No, he didn't," Matthew interjected quickly.

"Thank God!"

"He touched her inappropriately, but from what I could tell," Matthew continued, "Sybil was not inviting him to do so. Quite the opposite."

"Papa, this has been very upsetting for Sybil. Let me take her inside to rest."

Lord Grantham nodded, and he and Matthew watched Sybil walk off with Mary's comforting arm securely draped around her waist.

"What did you see?" Lord Grantham looked straight at Matthew. "Please, tell me. I need to know. Lord Merton is Mary's godfather, and the family has been friends of the Crawleys' for generations. If I am to sever that bond…"

"Robert," Matthew said with a heavy sigh, "Larry Grey preyed on Sybil's innocence and sweet, trusting nature. She is a very beautiful girl."

"Are you saying that it was her fault?" Robert growled.

"Not at all. When Mary and I found them, he was kissing her, and…"

"And what?" Robert snapped.

"Larry's hand was under Sybil's skirt," Matthew said through gritted teeth.

"WHAT?" Robert roared.

"Robert, what in heaven's name is the matter?" Cora exclaimed as she came around the corner just in time to hear her husband yell at Matthew.

"Where is the little worm? I'll kill him!"

Robert was fuming, his face red. Cora grasped his arms, facing him. Matthew held his breath as he watched Lady Grantham plead with her husband through a silent communication.

"What in the world has you so upset, darling?"

"That little scoundrel, Larry Grey, had the nerve…" Robert's voice was rising again. Cora placed her palm on his cheek. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down, knowing that he was upsetting her. "He touched her, Cora. Inappropriately."

"Who?" Cora frowned. She glanced at Matthew. "Mary?"

"Sybil." Robert hissed.

"Dear God!" Cora's hand flew to her mouth. "Is she all right?"

Robert nodded and gently pulled Cora close. "Mary's with her. Matthew showed up just in time."

"I heard that there was a fight," Cora said a little hesitantly. She eyed Matthew for confirmation, and he nodded. "It was you."

"Yes. I'm so very sorry for losing my temper in front of your guests and family, Cousin Cora."

"Don't be ridiculous! Everyone knows that the Crawley men have terrible tempers."

The three gaped at the sound of Lady Violet's voice behind them. Matthew stared wide-eyed at Robert. Noticing the corner of the earl's mouth twitch, Matthew fought not to laugh. Then Cora burst out laughing and neither of them could hold it in any longer. The three laughed together, Cora holding on to her husband, and Matthew grabbing the side of the tent as he almost doubled over with laugher. Violet huffed, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth too.

~ O ~

Mary closed the door to Sybil's bedroom behind her. Crossing the floor to where her sister was standing, Mary gently grabbed Sybil's arms.

"What happened, darling?"

"Nothing." Sybil let out a frustrated sigh and pulled away. "I'm not a little girl, you know. Honestly, Mary."

"You're only fifteen, Sybil," Mary said gently. "Hardly a grownup woman."

"You kissed Matthew when you were fourteen," Sybil said defiantly.

Mary's eyes widened. "Where did you hear that?"

"It's true, isn't it? Don't lie to me, Mary."

Mary sighed and sat down on Sybil's bed. She looked up at her sister who was standing in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips as she glared at Mary.

"Yes, darling. I did kiss him."

"So why can't I kiss Larry?"

"Sybil," Mary warned.

"Tell me, Mary."

"Larry wanted more than just to kiss you," Mary explained patiently, her tone gentle.

"I know that!" Sybil tossed her hands in the air. "I trust him. He would've stopped when I asked him too."

"Would he?" Mary met her sister's eyes. "Sybil, darling, you must promise me to be careful with men. Not all are as honorable as Matthew and Papa."

"Perhaps I don't want that?" Sybil huffed. "Have you thought about that?"

"Very well, but you're still only fifteen."

Sybil rolled her eyes. Mary sat patiently waiting, watching her sister. Finally Sybil sat down next to her.

"I felt the butterflies," she whispered.

Mary chuckled and put her arm around Sybil's shoulders. "I'm glad. The problem, darling, is that you cannot trust the butterflies. Once they start to dance around you get all tingly and they will impair your judgment just as if you've had too much champagne."

"I liked when he kissed me," Sybil whispered. "But when he touched my leg… it just felt different. It scared me a little."

Mary stroked her sister's hair and Sybil leaned her head against Mary's shoulder. They both jumped when the door burst open and their father stormed in, followed by Lady Grantham and Granny.

"What did he do to you?"

Sybil flinched and tilted her chin up. "Nothing, Papa. We only kissed."

"Kissed," Lord Grantham sputtered. "You're a child, Sybil. You shouldn't be kissing men."

"I'm not a child!" She jumped to her feet, glaring at her father.

"Sybil, don't raise your voice at your father." Cora grabbed Sybil's arm and made her turn to face her. "Your Papa is worried, that's all."

"I'm old enough to understand these things," Sybil said stubbornly.

"Far from it," Lord Grantham muttered.

"Do you care for the young man?" Granny asked.

"What does that have to do with anything, Mama?" Lord Grantham exclaimed.

Violet raised her hand for him to be quiet. "Please, Robert, Sybil is right; she's old enough to start looking at young men in that way."

"Thank you, Granny."

Robert's face turned a deeper shade of red, and he started pacing. Cora gently stopped him and held his gaze for a moment.

"Please, darling."

Robert nodded and took her hands, squeezing them gently. Cora stepped aside and father and daughter faced each other, matching stubborn looks on their faces.

"Papa," Mary said gently. "I had a talk with Sybil, and she understands the seriousness of the situation."

"Do you really?"

"Yes, Papa." Sybil stepped closer to him. "I would never let Larry, or anyone for that matter, take advantage of me."

"I know." Robert stroked her cheek and smiled at her. "I trust _you_, Sybil. It's the young man's motives that I question. Please promise to be careful."

"Oh, Papa," she whispered and threw her arms around him.

Lord Grantham held his youngest daughter close, resting his cheek against her soft hair.

"You're my little girl, Sybil. You always will be. Please don't ask me not to look out for you, because I always will."

Sybil looked up at him with tears in her eyes; she smiled and nodded.

~ O ~

"Matthew?"

Matthew turned around at the familiar voice calling his name. He smiled at his cousin who approached with a young woman on his arm.

"Patrick." Matthew shook the offered hand.

"Please allow me to introduce Lady Annabelle Napier." Patrick smiled at Annabelle. "My cousin, Matthew Crawley."

Matthew took her slender hand, kissing it. "It's a great pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Annabelle. Patrick has told me such wonderful things about you."

She smiled and laughed softly. "I'm glad to hear. He speaks highly of you, too."

Matthew almost felt himself drowning in her deep green eyes. With her dark locks framing her heart-shaped face, Lady Annabelle was a stunning beauty.

"Where is Mary?"

"There was an incident," Matthew said vaguely.

"Oh, yes. We heard." Patrick met Matthew's eyes. "Is everything all right?"

Matthew nodded. He gestured to a passing footman. Grabbing two glasses of champagne from the tray, he handed one to Lady Annabelle and the other one to Patrick before grabbing one for himself.

"To a wonderful summer in the company of dear friends and family."

"I'll drink to that!"

The three spoke quietly as they enjoyed their drinks. Matthew was pleasantly surprised by Lady Annabelle's wit and sense of humor. She shared some very funny stories from her time in Baden Baden that had the two men in stitches. This was how Mary found them once she rejoined the party.

"Mary!"

Matthew turned at Patrick's cheerful greeting. Mary stepped up to him, taking his arm.

"How's Sybil?"

"Just fine. She and Papa had a minor shouting match, but it's all over now."

"Ah, the Crawley temper," Patrick teased.

"Should I worry?" Annabelle said softly.

"Annabelle!" Mary let go of Matthew to greet her friend. "I have not seen you in such a long time. How have you been? How's Evelyn?"

"With the exception of having suffered through an extremely dull winter in Baden Baden, I'm fine." She grinned at Mary. "Evelyn is very well. He's here somewhere." Annabelle took Mary's hands. "We're so terribly sorry for arriving so late. I'm afraid Mama was not feeling well."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Mama will miss her."

Matthew and Patrick watched the two women as Mary steered Annabelle over to a small table to have a seat in the shade.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?" Matthew frowned at the vague question.

"What did you say when asking Mary to marry you?"

"Ah!" Matthew chuckled. "I made sure that we were alone, and then I just asked her."

"I don't know what to say," Patrick muttered. "Should I kneel down? Take her hand?"

"Yes to both." Mathew grinned at his cousin's clear discomfort. "Just ask her. The words don't have to be perfect, as long as your intent is."

Patrick sighed and nodded. He started in the direction of Mary and Annabelle. Matthew gently stopped him.

"Allow me to whisk Mary away first. It's a very private moment. You should not have witnesses."

"Good thinking."

The two walked over to the women. Matthew offered Mary his hand and asked her to walk with him, shooting the other two a meaningful glace that Mary picked up on instantly. She smiled and took his arm.

"I guess any opportunity to be together without Mama and Papa hovering close by should not be wasted."

Mathew chuckled, and the two bid Patrick and Annabelle goodbye.

**_To Be Continued…_**

_..._

_Please feel free to drop me a line to let me know what you think. What did you enjoy most? What would you like to see happening going forward? I will take all suggestions and thoughts into consideration as I move forward with this story._

_There will be a little break in this story as I wrap **Chapter 29 **of** The rightful Heir**. Not to worry, I am talking a week or so - not months _:D

- to Review


	4. Lovers' Secrets

**Rating: **Mature (in parts)  
**Spoilers:** Season 1 & 2 trough the Christmas Special

**Disclaimer:** Any names off characters you recognize from Downton Abbey are not mine. All original characters do however belong to me. Fanfiction is in my opinion the ultimate form of flattery to a screenwriter :)

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_As I keep working on the next chapter of __**The Rightful Heir**__, I decided to post the next chapter of the continuation to my __**Downton Saga**__. RL has continued to be crazy busy lately. My lovely Irish beta, __**Tambear**__, is still recuperating. She has had a rough couple of months, so please send her your best wishes for a speedy recovery, and keep her in your prayers (if that's your thing)._

_While__**Tambear**__is recovering, the talented and wonderful __**R. Grace**__has so graciously agreed to help me out. Between the two of them, they have steered me in the right direction with this story. So, a huge thank you to __**R. Grace**__for their help with this chapter, catching missing commas, odd grammar and offering excellent suggestions & advice! I hope that you will enjoy it!_

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**A/N:** As a guest was so nice to point out, Annabelle Napier is '_Miss'_ Annabelle, not '_Lady'_ Annabelle. I mixed up my characters, I'm afraid. Writing Lord Merton made me mix him up with Viscount Branksome, thereby giving Miss Annabelle the wrong title. Thank you for catching this mistake before I repeated it :)

I've been so busy, I'm terribly behind on answering comments and reviews. Please know that I treasure all of them, and I love when you share your thoughts. I have my favorite parts and scenes, but it's so lovely to hear which ones stood out to you, what really touched you, angered you, frustrated you or just made you go awww. LOL So, thank you, all of you for reviewing and favoriting this story.

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**Chapter 4 – Lovers' Secrets**

Mrs. Patmore was in a rotten mood. She was barking orders, commandeering everyone around worse than usual. Daisy rushed through one task after the other, wishing that she had been gifted with four arms and hands so she could stir two pots while finishing the pie crust at the same time. As it was, the creator had not deemed it fit to grant her this, so instead her eardrums vibrated from Mrs. Patmore's orders and complaints.

"Daisy!"

"Yes, Mrs. Patmore?"

"Where did you put the caster sugar?"

"Over there, Mrs. Patmore, next to the raisins."

Mrs. Patmore muttered something under her breath and grabbed the bowl, almost dropping it as she barely managed avoiding colliding with Thomas.

"Watch where you're going!"

"Is the soup ready to go up?" Thomas glared at the cook.

"Just a minute!" Daisy reached for the terrine she had been warming for the soup.

"Hurry up, will ya," Thomas muttered. "They're rushing through up there."

"There." Daisy put the terrine on the table.

Thomas grabbed it and turned to leave. Daisy gasped as she spotted the bowl with parsley.

"Thomas! Wait!"

"What is it now?" he muttered.

She quickly lifted the lid and tossed a handful of chopped parsley on top of the soup. Replacing the lid, she smiled at the handsome footman.

"Thank you."

"Sure. Done?"

"Daisy!"

Daisy bobbed her head to Thomas and hurried back to her half-finished pie.

~ O ~

The dinner party that was originally supposed to have been just the family and Matthew and Isobel, now included Miss Annabelle Napier and her brother Evelyn, Sir Anthony Strallan, and Mr. Travis, the Downton vicar.

Matthew kept glancing over at Patrick who glared back at him each time. Finally, everyone around the table knew that something was up. Lord Grantham, as usual, was the last to pick up on the glances between the two.

"Patrick, what is going on with you? You are looking at Matthew as if you want to punch him in the nose, something that I would advise against after having seen his swing this afternoon."

Patrick rolled his eyes as laughter broke out around the table. He turned to Lord Grantham and sighed.

"I am glaring at Matthew because he's enjoying this little game far too much, Robert."

"What game?" Robert frowned as he looked between the two young men.

Matthew leaned back in his chair, looking immensely pleased with himself.

"You know you cannot keep it a secret, Patrick," he teased.

Annabelle giggled and gently touched Patrick's arm. "It's all right, Patrick."

"But I promised you," he said, slight panic in his eyes.

"I know you did, and I am delighted, but I think you should tell them."

"Tell us what?" Robert exclaimed, completely bewildered now.

Cora had picked up on what was going on and her eyes widened a little. She held up her hand to her husband.

"Robert, please let Patrick speak. It sounds as if he has something very important to share with us."

Lord Grantham opened his mouth to ask what, but noticing the look on his wife's face, he closed it again and nodded at Patrick.

Patrick pushed his chair back and got up. He held out his hand to Annabelle who gently placed hers in his. She smiled up at him, and the two lost themselves in each other's eyes for a moment.

"Patrick?

"Hush, Robert," Cora hissed, giving her husband a stern look.

"Lord and Lady Grantham..." Patrick looked around the table, only to return his gaze, again, to Annabelle. "This afternoon I asked Miss Annabelle Napier to marry me…" More than one gasp was heard in the otherwise quiet room, while the rest held their breath. "And she said _'yes'_!"

Laughter and cheers broke out around the table. Lord Grantham immediately sent Carson for some celebratory champagne. The previous easygoing conversation around the table instantly became livelier. Once the women left the men to their drinks and talk, Robert pulled out his best cigars and congratulated Patrick again.

"So when will the wedding take place?"

"We haven't actually set a date." Patrick felt slightly uncomfortable discussing the topic. "We haven't told her parents yet. Of course I asked her father for his permission, but even though he gave it, he is not aware of her response - or that I even asked her, for that matter."

"Of course," Robert said quickly, patting Patrick's shoulder.

"Since Papa and I are going to America next spring, I would say that late spring or early summer would be most likely."

"June is a lovely month," Sir Anthony said with a wide grin, chuckling a little nervously. "Maude and I married in June."

Robert nodded, looking a little uncomfortable. "I remember. I'm so sorry, old fellow."

"Thank you, it is very kind of you, Lord Grantham. She's been gone for so many years now," Strallan said quickly. "I miss her, of course, but it's not as heartbreakingly painful as it was back then."

"Perhaps we should rejoin the ladies?" Robert said, sounding a little too cheerful. "I am sure that they are bombarding Miss Napier with questions about the proposal and sharing wedding advice."

Patrick blanched at the last part. He knocked back his scotch and nodded. He smiled weakly at Matthew who made a face at him as they followed the two older gentlemen out of the dining room, crossing the grand hallway into the drawing room.

~ O ~

Matthew watched Mary as she laughed at something Annabelle said. He had tried to catch her attention for the last twenty minutes, without much success. Then, all of a sudden, she looked up, and their eyes met. She smiled fondly at him and excused herself. A moment later, she was by his side. With a gentle hand on her elbow, he steered her over to the open French doors. They stepped outside, and she took his arm.

"Look at all the stars," she whispered.

"They are all inferior to you, my darling."

"Oh, Matthew."

She turned and placed her hand on his chest, meeting his eyes.

"I've missed you." He stroked her cheek, rubbing her lower lip. "Are they watching?" She glanced over his shoulder, catching her mother looking away. Mary let out an annoyed sigh. "They are, aren't they?" He leaned his head back and chuckled.

"Mama is like a hawk."

"Come." He took her hand and stepped away from the window.

"Matthew, we can't," she hissed.

"Yes we can."

Before she could protest, he pulled her close and kissed her softly. Mary tangled her fingers in his soft locks as the kiss deepened. They were both out of breath when they pulled apart. Mary's heart was beating wildly as she met his eyes.

"Matthew," she whispered, reaching up to cup his face.

"Let me come to you tonight, please."

"We can't, darling. Mama will be watching us. I suspect that she has arranged for a hallboy to guard my room all night."

"Then come to me."

She chuckled and shook her head. "That's equally impossible, and you know it."

"I will go mad if I have to wait until we're married to be alone with you."

"Please," she whispered. "You're making this so hard."

"Mary?"

They froze at the sound of Lady Grantham's voice. Mary stepped away from Matthew, but he held on to her hand.

"Meet me in the small library once everyone has gone to bed," she whispered before hurrying past him to join the others.

Matthew grinned and straightened his waistcoat. He would be there.

~ O ~

Mary smiled at Anna in the mirror as the maid ran the brush through her hair. Anna returned the smile and started to braid Mary's long waves.

"Your hair is so lovely, milady," she said cheerfully. "I wish mine was more like yours."

"Your hair is beautiful, Anna." Mary smiled at the maid. "I'm sure it's softer than mine."

"Perhaps, but I just wish that I had some of your pretty curls."

"Thank you, Anna."

"Well, nuthin' I can do about it, so why cry over it?" Anna said with a chuckle.

Mary giggled and turned to face her maid. "Are you done for the night, or do you have Edith and Sybil still?"

"No, milady. They retired to bed before you. I'm sure they are both asleep by now."

"Probably. I hope Edith did not give you a hard time."

"Of course not, milady." Anna just smiled, knowing better than to complain about Lady Edith, even if she knew that Mary and Edith were far from best friends.

"I'm glad. Then please, retire for the night."

"Thank you, milady. Sleep well."

"Good night, Anna."

~ O ~

Matthew slowly opened the door to his room, inching it open a little. Listening for any sign of activity in the hallway, he finally poked his head out. It was empty and completely quiet. Glancing in the direction of Patrick's room, he saw no light from under the door. Evelyn was sleeping a few doors down, but Matthew did not worry too much about him, since he was headed in the opposite direction. Quietly closing the door behind him, he slipped out and hurried downstairs. He felt like a thief, hiding in the darkness behind columns and furniture. Eventually he made it to the library without having to explain to anyone why he was up and about.

While Matthew was trying to calm his beating heart in the small library, Mary was pacing in her room. A gentle knock on her door sent her flying back to bed. Opening her book, she called out for her visitor to enter. Her mother smiled as she entered Mary's bedroom.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing, darling." Lady Grantham eased down on Mary's bed, reaching for her hand. "I know that you are upset with me, Mary, but some day you will understand."

"Perhaps," Mary said with a sigh. "I just wish that you trusted me."

"I do, but I also know that love makes people impulsive, and they sometimes do things they regret later."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Mama, honestly."

Lady Grantham chuckled and squeezed Mary's hand. "Matthew is a very handsome man. I understand the attraction, believe me." She leaned closer and grinned mischievously. "He has Crawley blue eyes. They are easy to get lost in."

Mary groaned and closed her eyes. "Please, Mama."

Cora laughed and got up. She caressed Mary's cheek before leaning down to kiss her goodnight.

"Sweet dreams, my darling. Your wedding day will be here sooner than you know it."

"Good night, Mama."

~ O ~

Mary turned off the bedside lamp once her mother left, just in case someone would pass her room and notice the light under the door. Finally certain that everyone was in bed, she left her room, tugging her dressing gown a bit tighter around her as she hurried towards the stairs. She gasped when her father came around the corner, obviously headed in the same direction. They both stopped and stared at each other.

"Mary? What on earth are you doing up?"

"I can't sleep. I was going to see if Carson could make me some warm milk with cinnamon."

Mary smiled sweetly at her father. He eyed her suspiciously, far from convinced by her explanation.

"I was going down to the library for the same reason. I think a cognac might work better than milk."

"Sounds good."

Mary walked slowly behind her father, thinking frantically of what to say, or do, to alert Matthew to the unfortunate truth she was not coming alone. If her father found Matthew hiding in the small library, he would see through her lie in a heartbeat.

"You must be relieved by Patrick's engagement, Papa."

"I suppose." Robert turned and looked at Mary over his shoulder, frowning a little at the look on her face. "You know your mother and I had hopes that perhaps you and Patrick would marry."

"I know." Not wanting to upset him, she remained silent.

"Matthew is a good man," Robert continued. "I know he has a bright future ahead of him. What worries me is that you are both so young."

Mary hurried past her father towards the library. "Matthew has worked so hard to get to where he is," she said, a little louder than necessary.

Robert raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I'm sure he has. Don't get me wrong, Mary, I am impressed by him. It's just that I know how hard it is to raise a family, and if you're not situated by the time you have a child... well, it can be quite a challenge."

"One that we will face together," Mary said assertively. Her eyes darted towards the opening to the small library. There was no sound from in there. Perhaps he was not there. She felt fear surge inside again. What if he had not come down yet? What if he walked in on them?

"I know, my dear." Robert poured two glasses and handed one to Mary. "I will do what I can to help you, you know that."

"Thank you, Papa. We are very grateful, of course."

"I was discussing what to give you and Matthew for a wedding gift with your mother tonight."

"Oh?" Mary's eyebrows shot up.

"I have already promised you some money, but that is a separate issue." He sipped his drink and smiled at her. "Your Mama seems to think that you might like a nice honeymoon."

"Oh, Papa." Mary gasped and her eyes widened. "That would be wonderful. Where?"

He shrugged. "We never got that far discussing it. Anyplace you fancy visiting with Matthew?"

"France." The answer came so naturally to her, she did not even have to think twice. "Paris, and perhaps someplace else as well."

"We'll see. I will talk to your mama about it." He stifled a yawn. "Well, my dear, it seems the cognac did the trick. I'm off to bed again."

"I think I will stay a little," she said, smiling at him while getting comfortable on the sofa. "You've given me something lovely to think about. I am much too excited to sleep now."

He chuckled at her cheeky comment. "Goodnight, my dear."

"Goodnight, Papa."

~ O ~

Matthew froze in place when he heard Mary's voice, realizing that she was not alone. He pressed himself against the wall next to the door, hoping and praying that they would not come this far into the library.

He almost laughed, overhearing Mary enthusiastically exclaim '_Paris'_. So, his wife to be had a fondness for the romance capital of Europe?Matthew's grin widened at the prospect of discovering Paris with Mary by his side.

Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Matthew gritted his teeth, hoping that Lord Grantham would hurry up and go back to bed. Why was the earl down here anyway, when his beautiful wife was most likely curled up, warm and inviting, in their bed upstairs? Matthew made a face as Robert spoke again. His ears perked up as Robert's words reached him. The earl was indeed going back to bed. _Thank God_, Matthew thought, rolling his eyes.

Everything was quiet for a long moment after Lord Grantham's supposed exit. Afraid that the earl was still in the room, Matthew remained frozen in place. The rustling of clothing alerted him to someone approaching. He held his breath in anticipation.

"Matthew?"

Her soft voice whispering his name was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Turning, he wrapped his arms around her as she stepped into the small library. She gasped, but he quieted it with his lips, pressed firmly against hers.

"I thought he would never leave," he mumbled against her neck.

"I wasn't sure that you were actually here."

"Of course I would not make you wait in vain, darling."

"You might have fallen asleep." Her teasing smile turned into a giggle as he held her closer.

"Come."

He pulled her over to a small sofa, and they sat down together. The soft light from the moon made her skin glow like the finest alabaster. Matthew caressed her cheek and kissed her again. She was playing with his hair, now and then tugging a little. He pulled her onto his lap, holding her close.

"Oh, Matthew."

Her soft, breathy exclamation made a shiver go through him, and he shifted her on his lap. Mary gasped at the feel of his arousal, so evident where it pressed against her thigh. He grinned at her and ran his hand over her leg.

"What did you think would happen, having you this close in nothing more than your lovely night clothes?"

She giggled and covered her mouth. Her eyes widened a little when he pushed her nightgown up to stroke her thigh.

"Matthew, we can't," she hissed. "Not here. What if someone comes in?"

"It's the middle of the night, Mary." He kissed her softly and squeezed her thigh. "I only want to touch you, to hear you. Please, Mary, say that you want me to."

"You know I do, darling."

He pressed his lips against hers in a heated kiss. She whimpered softly when he moved his hand higher, over her soft curls to touch her intimately. They both gasped as his fingers found her slick heat.

"God, Mary," he groaned.

"Please." She was trembling, yet he had barely touched her. She pressed against his hand, and finally he stroked over her. "Yes!"

Matthew watched Mary's face as he slowly moved his fingers over her soft folds, circling, flicking, teasing her sweet spot. After a moment, he eased her down on the sofa. Kneeling on the floor next to it, he pushed her nightgown up to bare her to him. She eagerly raised her leg when he caressed the back of her thigh. Resting it on his shoulder. Mary caressed his hair, tugging him to her until she felt his lips brush over her. She whimpered and bucked under him.

Matthew cupped her buttocks, holding her firmly against him as he loved her with his mouth. How he had missed this! Mary's sounds were soft and quiet, but even so, they were music to his ears. When he wrapped his lips around her little spot, flicking his tongue over her, she clapped her hand over her mouth as her body let go, pulling her into a blissful release. Watching her, Matthew kept stroking her with his tongue until she went limp, completely spent.

Gathering her in his arms, Matthew held her close, kissing her eyes and cheeks. She smiled and opened her eyes. When he kissed her, she could taste her essence on his lips, and it made her shiver again. He chuckled and squeezed her hip.

With a teasing smile, Mary slipped off the sofa. Making herself comfortable between his feet, she stroked his thighs up to where his manhood was straining against the fabric of his pajamas. He hissed when she placed her palm over him, rubbing very gently, pressing down a little. Removing her hand she kissed him there, her breath hot through the thin cotton. Matthew grabbed his trousers and started to pull them down.

"Mary?"

Her head shot up and her eyes widened in panic at the sound of her mother's voice. Matthew's hands froze, and he scrambled to his feet. Mary shook her head and jumped up, running towards the library while trying to neaten her appearance.

"Mama, what are you doing up?"

Lady Grantham eyed her daughter suspiciously. "I could ask you the same thing. Your Papa told me that he left you down here." Cora came closer. "Did I interrupt something?"

"Something like what?" Mary asked and rolled her eyes. "I just finished my drink and was about to head back up to bed."

"You look as you just came from a lovers' encounter," Lady Grantham said rather sharply.

"Well, I was thinking about Matthew," Mary said and smiled, her cheeks coloring a deeper pink. "The moon is so beautiful, and it was rather romantic to watch it from the small library."

Lady Grantham chuckled and shook her head. "Goodness me! If just thinking of him can do that to you, I think Matthew will be a happy man being married to you, Mary."

"Mama!" Mary gasped, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise at her mother's frank words.

"Even though I would like to think of you as my little girl forever, I do realize that you are a woman now. I wasn't much older than you when I married your Papa. Those first years were very happy ones for us as a couple."

Mary stepped away from her mother. "Please, I can't…"

"Oh, Mary." Cora chuckled, amused. "Does it surprise you that I still desire your Papa, and he me?"

"I'm glad, but honestly, Mama, I do not wish to hear about it."

"Very well. Come along now. It's very late, and you should be in bed."

"Yes, Mama."

As she followed her mother, Mary cast one last glance at the entrance to the small library. Matthew stepped out of the shadows, blowing her a kiss. She smiled at him and did the same before hurrying to catch up with her mother.

_**To be continued…**_


	5. The Longest Summer

**Rating: **PG-13  
**Spoilers: ** Season 1 & 2 trough the Christmas Special

**Disclaimer:** Any names off characters you recognize from Downton Abbey are not mine. All original characters do however belong to me. Fanfiction is in my opinion the ultimate form of flattery to a screenwriter :)

…

_While__ m__y lovely Irish beta,__**Tambear, **__is recovering, the talented and wonderful __**R. Grace **__has so graciously agreed to help me out. Between the two of them, they have steered me in the right direction with this story. So, a huge thank you to __**R. Grace **__for helping with this chapter, catching missing commas, odd grammar and offering excellent suggestions & advice! I hope that you will enjoy it!_

I'm still terribly behind on answering comments and reviews. Please know that I treasure all of them, and I love when you share your thoughts. I have my favorite parts and scenes, but it's so lovely to hear which ones stood out to you, what really touched you, angered you, frustrated you or just made you go awww. LOL So, thank you, all of you, for reviewing and favoriting this story.

_We're getting closer to the wedding… _

…

**Chapter 5 – The Longest Summer**

Lady Grantham had indeed been watching Mary like a hawk in the days that followed the Garden Party. Call it a mother's intuition, but she knew something was up. Mary became increasingly irritated, having her mother hover nearby at all times. She snapped at Cora, who only smiled and appeared to be completely immune to Mary's temper and sullen moods. As calm and collected as Lady Grantham appeared to be on the surface, she did find Mary's behavior somewhat frustrating. Understanding her daughter perhaps better than most people, Cora bit her tongue, refraining from putting fuel on the fire.

When the day came for Matthew and Isobel to depart from Downton, Mary's mood changed once again. This time it was her sisters who found her behavior tiresome.

"Mary, if you sigh one more time I'll throw my book at you," Edith exclaimed.

"Oh, do pipe down," Mary muttered.

"What's wrong?" Sybil asked, seating herself next to Mary and taking her hand. "Do you miss him an awful lot?"

"Yes, darling." Mary smiled at Sybil and caressed her soft cheek. "You're very sweet for understanding."

"You'll see him in a few weeks," Edith muttered. "And then you'll see him every day for the rest of your life. Not that I can see the appeal."

"Of course not," Mary snapped. "All you have eyes for is Cousin Patrick. Patrick, Patrick, Patrick. Too bad that that fish got away."

Edith glared at Mary. "You're cruel. I hate you!"

Mary sighed and closed her eyes as her younger sister stormed out of the room. Sybil squeezed her hand, and Mary returned the gesture.

"Why do you and Edith argue so much, Mary?"

"Oh, I don't know. Old habit, I suppose."

"She's jealous of you, you know," Sybil said softly.

Mary was just about to correct her sister when she realized that there might be some truth to Sybil's words.

"I was horrid to Edith, wasn't I?"

Sybil nodded. "You know how much she likes Patrick. I think she cried all night once she learned of his engagement to Annabelle."

"I should go and apologize," Mary said with a heavy sigh. She got up and smiled at Sybil. "You truly are the best of us three, Sybil."

Sybil rolled her eyes. "You're silly, Mary. Now go and talk to Edith."

~ O ~

Matthew's hand hovered in the air over the empty stationery as he lost himself in thought. A little smile played on his lips as he gazed through the open window, not seeing the greenery, but instead Mary's smiling face.

It had not even been a week since they'd left Downton, but he missed her terribly. He chuckled softly at the memory of that night in the library when they had come so close to being discovered. He had remained downstairs for quite some time after Mary and Lady Grantham went upstairs, not only to prevent discovery, but also to get his arousal under control. Mary's touch had left him in quite a state, and he had cursed Cora for coming looking for her daughter. Still, he reckoned, the countess' timing could have been much worse. So much worse, indeed.

Glancing down at the cream colored paper on the desk, he frowned at the discovery of a blotch where some ink had leaked from his pen.

"Blasted pen." He put the pen back and tossed the ruined page in the bin. Reaching for another piece of stationery, he tried to focus his thoughts on his letter to Mary.

_ My Dearest Mary,_

_ How I miss you. Thank you for giving me your beautiful handkerchief. _

_It has truly kept me sane, as your scent still lingers on it. I carry it _

_ with me wherever I go, keeping it safe, close to my heart…_

_._

Matthew leaned back, rereading his words. He made a face at how they made him sound like a love struck fool.

"Well, you are," he muttered to himself.

Remembering all too well the soft look in Mary's eyes whenever he opened his heart to her and how his words truly held a deep meaning to her, he put his best foot forward and continued writing. Once done, he carefully blotted the page before folding it up. Turning the envelope over, he scribbled Mary's name and Downton, and was just about to seal it when he thought of something. A mischievous grin spread over his face, and reached for his pen again. Once done, he carefully slipped the new item inside the envelope. To make it official, he sealed the letter with wax, pressing the Crawley crest into it.

~ O ~

On a beautiful sunny day in early August, Lady Grantham escorted a somewhat sullen Mary to London, for the last fitting of Mary's wedding dress. Cora's attempt at conversation was met with only halfhearted, short responses from her daughter who seemed more interested in the landscape flying by outside than in speaking to her mother.

"What's wrong, darling?" Cora tried again, smiling at Mary, who was seated across from her in the first class car.

"Nothing." Mary sighed, continuing to stare out the window.

"Clearly it is something," Cora pushed on. "You were so excited about your wedding dress at the last fitting."

"Fine." Mary glared at her mother. "Matthew promised to write, and he hasn't. There, I said it."

"Oh, my dear." Cora frowned and reached for Mary's hand. "I'm sure he's very busy getting everything ready for you. Besides, men are far from the best correspondents."

"I suppose." Mary sighed again. "You don't think he's changed his mind?"

"Heavens no! Why in the world would you say that?" Cora almost laughed at the thought, but held back her amusement at the forlorn look on Mary's face. "I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation, my dear."

Mary nodded and smiled a little. "Since you seem to think so, I will try my best to do the same."

"I'm so glad that we could take this trip together, Mary; a last mother daughter event before you're off on your next adventure."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Don't get all sentimental now, Mama. It makes you sound so American."

Cora just laughed. She squeezed Mary's hand again before leaning back in her seat, picking up the book she had been reading.

~ O ~

"Matthew?"

"Yes, mother?" Matthew looked up from his newspaper, meeting his mother's eyes.

"Have you decided on your best man yet?"

"Crikey!" His eyes widened in shock and surprise. "I haven't given it the faintest thought."

"Perhaps it's time that you do?" she said rather sternly. "You do need one, you know."

"I do know that, Mother."

"Cousin Patrick perhaps?"

"No, I don't think so." Matthew frowned. As close as he and Patrick had become over the years, he still did not feel completely at ease with Downton's heir. "I'm not sure choosing the one person that stands to inherit what should rightfully be Mary's would be a good idea."

"You're quite right." Isobel made a face as she pondered her son's words. "It is ridiculous really, that Mary can't inherit. All because of some ancient patriarchal entail."

"We can't change it, Mother, so it's no use getting angry about it. Besides, it was her grandfather who put the entail in place, so it's hardly ancient."

"I know, my dear, but it still upsets me so."

"What about Mitchell? Or perhaps Collins?" Matthew suggested, changing the topic before his mother would go off on a rant about the oppression of women in England.

"Andrew Mitchell," Isobel mused. "He's a nice boy. And it's _Walter_ Collins, is it not? What's become of him?"

"Yes, Walter." Matthew smiled at his mother. Isobel knew both young men, and had done so for years. "He's working for his uncle, managing one of his stores in York."

"Good for him!" Isobel grinned with excitement. "I always liked him. Andrew was a little rascal, but a loving one. Walter though, he was such a thoughtful and charming boy."

"Mother, Walter is twenty-two and Andrew twenty-one, so they are hardly little boys anymore."

"I know that, Matthew, but I like to think of them still embodying the wonderful characteristics they had when they were little."

"I will write to Collins first." Matthew picked up the paper again, considering the matter closed.

"Excellent!" Isobel refilled her tea, sipping it carefully, clearly pleased that he had made a decision.

~ O ~

The trip to London had been uneventful. The dress would be sent to Downton in two weeks, well in time for the wedding. Mary was in a bit of a haze as she retired upstairs to refresh from the trip, eager for a moment alone.

She let out a sigh of relief as she entered her bedroom. It was empty and looked as the calm sanctuary it had always been. Mary pulled off her gloves and started to remove her hat when her eyes fell on something on her vanity. A letter! She gasped and flung the hat on her bed, hurrying over to the vanity. Immediately recognizing Matthew's handwriting she ripped it open. As she pulled out the letter, she felt something else inside. Carefully unfolding the expensive stationery she gasped at the photograph, her hand flying to her mouth.

"My dashing darling."

Matthew's pale eyes looked up at her from the sepia photograph. She turned it over and smiled when she read the date, which confirmed her suspicion that the photograph had been taken quite recently. Below, scribbled in Matthew's handwriting, was a message for her.

"_Mary, the next photograph I sit for will be my wedding portrait with you by my side - the most beautiful bride of all time! – Forever yours, Matthew,_" she read in a hushed whisper. "Oh, Matthew."

~ O ~

On the day of Matthew and Isobel's scheduled arrival, Mary woke up with a start. She sat up in bed, her heart beating frantically as she gasped for air. Jumping out of bed she grabbed her dressing gown, not bothering to ring for Anna before bolting from her room.

Mary tied her robe as she hurried towards her destination. She knocked gently and was greeted by her mother's soft voice asking her to come in.

"Good morning, Mama."

"Mary! What in the world brings you here this early in the morning?"

"Oh, Mama," Mary exclaimed and hurried to her mother's side, taking a seat on her father's side of the bed. "I can't do this."

"What do you mean?" Cora set the tray aside at the foot of the bed.

"I can't do it. I can't marry Matthew!"

"Oh, my darling," Cora opened her arms and Mary threw herself against her. "Everything will be all right." Cora stroked Mary's hair as she held her daughter.

"I don't see how it could!" Mary wailed. She looked up at Cora. "I know nothing about being a wife. Matthew will despise me."

"Of course not!" Cora huffed. "He adores you, and you know it."

"Perhaps, and I do love him so much," Mary said and wiped her cheeks. "That's why I can't marry him. I can never be the wife he deserves."

"Mary, stop it!" Cora said sternly and shook Mary a little. "I didn't know anything at all about being a countess, or a wife for that matter, when I married your father. But I learned, and so will you."

Mary nodded and sniffled. "What if he expects me to run the house? I haven't the faintest idea how to go about that." She looked at Cora with new alarm in her eyes. "Do you think he expects me to cook? _Clean_?"

"Mary," Cora rolled her eyes. "You know very well that Isobel has a cook and a maid. They might even take on a new kitchen maid."

"How do you know all this?" Mary stared wild-eyed at her mother.

"Isobel told me. I suggested that she talk Matthew into using some of the money from your father and me to hire another maid, since the current one will now be attending to both you and Isobel."

"Oh, Mama, thank you." Mary smiled weakly and again wiped her face. "I must look dreadful."

Cora gently stroked Mary's cheek. "In my eyes you will always be beautiful, my darling, but to be honest with you, crying like this is not becoming for your pale complexion." She nudged Mary to get up. "Use my washbasin and clean yourself up, my dear."

Mary eased out of the bed and walked over to splash some water on her face. She gently patted her face dry and folded the towel neatly next to the bowl.

"Much better." Cora held out her hands to her and Mary took them, sitting down again. "Mary, it's normal to be scared, and it's perfectly all right to admit it. I will help you as much as I can. If you wish, you may join me when I meet with Mrs. Hughes tomorrow to go over the menus and preparations for the wedding."

"Could I really? Oh, Mama, thank you." Mary beamed at her mother.

"I never thought you would be that excited at the prospect of listening to me discussing the running of the house with the housekeeper." Cora smiled teasingly at Mary, who made a face.

"I suppose it never held much appeal in the past."

"Now hurry along, darling. O'Brien will be here soon, and you should ring for Anna to get you ready. Matthew and Isobel will be here at noon."

"Yes, Mama." Mary stopped by the door and looked at her mother over her shoulder. She smiled, and the countess smiled in return. "Thank you."

"Always."

~ O ~

Mrs. Hughes sighed and looked at the list again. No matter what she did with the sleeping arrangements, some people would not be happy. A knock on the door startled her and she looked up.

"Yes, Mr. Carson?"

"I wonder if this is a good time to discuss the decorating of the grand hallway?"

"Can it wait?" She sighed and glanced down at the guest list on her desk. "I'm trying to sort out the bedrooms for the wedding guests."

"Certainly." He made a face, clearly disappointed with her response.

"On second thought, perhaps taking a break from it would do me good." She smiled and gestured for him to enter.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hughes."

Mr. Carson placed the list on her desk, explaining his need for a few of her maids to help with the flowers. Mr. Moseley would deliver them the day before to ensure their freshness.

"I'm sure that can be arranged, Mr. Carson. Anna can't be spared, however, since her ladyship has requested her services for Lady Mary."

"Of course, of course," he said quickly, a tiny smile emerging on his lips. "I almost can't believe that it's really happening."

"Your precious Lady Mary is not a little girl anymore, Mr. Carson." Mrs. Hughes rolled her eyes at the look on his face.

"She's hardly mine, Mrs. Hughes," he muttered. "Though, I admit, I think very fondly of her. More so in fact than her sisters."

"She didn't turn out so bad in the end," Mrs. Hughes responded, patting his hand. "Much thanks to you, I suppose. Don't think I haven't noticed how much you've doted on the girl over the years."

"She was the first, Mrs. Hughes." He leaned back in his seat, lost in thoughts of the past. "They all worried, you know, when year after year there was no sign of her ladyship falling with child."

"I imagine that the feeling is the same whether you're a countess or a farmer's wife."

"I would think so," he said with a heavy sigh. "Then, one day, the family announced that she was expecting. The whole house celebrated with them." He smiled and sighed again. "We all tried our best to cater to all her needs."

"I'm sure you did," Mrs. Hughes huffed.

Ignoring her cheeky comment, Carson continued. "Then after hours and hours in labor, Lady Mary entered the world."

"Fancy that. Even as a tiny babe, she was stubborn."

"Mrs. Hughes!" Carson's eyes widened in shock.

"Oh, don't bother. You know as well as I do that, besides his lordship, Lady Mary might be the most stubborn creature walking this earth."

"Perhaps, but there's no need to point it out." He ran his finger along the edge of her desk as he lost himself in thought again. "She was the most beautiful little girl I'd ever seen. As a toddler she almost never cried, only laughed. She would try to sneak up on me, tugging at my tails, then run off again, hoping that I would chase her." He chuckled. "She was not very good at keeping silent, her little giggles almost always gave her away."

Mrs. Hughes smiled at the old butler's tale. She knew Lady Mary was the closest thing to a daughter he would ever have. As much as she disliked the young lady at times, she did know that Lady Mary was fond of Mr. Carson.

"Don't worry, Mr. Carson," she said softly and smiled at him. "We will have the house looking perfect for the wedding, even if it will break my maids' backs."

"Let's hope it won't come to that, but thank you, nevertheless."

She watched him get up, taking the chart with him. Turning her thoughts back to the bedrooms, Mrs. Hughes pushed all thoughts of Mr. Carson and Lady Mary out of her head as she set out to tackle the intricate, and most definitely delicate, matter of who to put where.

~ O ~

It was a much calmer Lady Mary Crawley who a few hours later stood next to her mother, welcoming Matthew and Isobel. She smiled when Matthew placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

"My darling."

"I've missed you so, Matthew," she whispered.

His grip on her arms tightened a little before he let go. They held each other's gaze until Carson cleared his throat. Mary giggled and took Matthew's arm as the two followed their mothers inside.

"Have you really missed me?"

"Of course!"

Matthew grinned and kissed her cheek again. "I've missed you madly."

"I'm so glad that you and Isobel arrived before the guests start coming." Mary rolled her eyes. "Downton will be a madhouse, I'm afraid, once our relatives start to arrive for the wedding."

"Is your grandmother really coming over from America?"

"She is." Another eye roll had him chuckling, and she grinned mischievously at him. "But five days from now, we will escape it all!"

Matthew blushed at the thought of what her words implied. "I can't wait."

"So you are looking forward to it then?" she teased.

"I'm looking forward to all sorts of things," he drawled, wiggling his eyebrows.

Mary gasped and gave him a stern look. "Don't make me blush."

"I know you look forward to it all too, my darling, so don't even try to pretend otherwise."

"Perhaps," she quipped. "but I'm a lady and would never admit to such things to a man who is not my husband."

Matthew laughed at her silliness. Several heads turned as the two entered the drawing room, grinning at each other.

"You're still smiling at each other. Good," the Dowager Countess quipped. "I suppose we will still have a wedding."

"Of course we will, Granny." Mary smiled at her grandmother.

"Your grandfather and I once travelled across the country in order to attend a wedding. A most tiring trip, I can assure you. Once we arrived, the bride and groom only had eyes for each other, but by the next morning she was locked in her room, and he left without a word. Needless to say, the wedding never took place."

"Mama, I'm not sure how that will reassure Mary and Matthew," Cora said gently.

"It's not supposed to!" Violet frowned at her daughter-in-law. "This is the last chance for them to find out if this is really what they want."

"It _is_, Granny. I can assure you that I love Matthew, and I cannot wait to become his wife."

"In Manchester?" The Dowager Countess chuckled, amused. "I would never have guessed."

"Manchester, London, Bombay, or Downton – I don't care, Granny." Mary smiled at Matthew.

The Dowager Countess huffed, clearly not as sure about this as Mary. Cora shot her a warning glare which surprisingly made Violet Crawley bite back her next witty comment.

_To Be Continued…_


	6. Downton, September 1911

**Chapter 6 – Downton, September 1911**

As August came to its end, Downton Abbey buzzed with activity with wedding guests starting to arrive, Lady Rosamund Painswick the first of this steady stream of people. Matthew was not sure if he enjoyed it, or resented it, simply due to the sheer number of friends of the family, and distant relatives who wanted to pay their respects to him and Mary. He had to admit that the few and far between little moments that he managed to steal away with his beautiful fiancée were delightful.

They had figured out that their best chance for some time alone was early in the morning, right after breakfast. After a silent conversation at the breakfast table they would finish at the same time, then make their excuses to go for a walk. Matthew would be quick to whisk Mary off, before anyone would ask to join them, or God forbid, strike up another tiresome conversation.

Of course, Matthew had known that it was too good to be true, that this precious time alone would not last. On the third morning, he and Mary were yet again strolling along the lawn, careful to stay within respectable distance to the house. Feeling eyes on his back, Matthew pulled Mary behind a large oak tree and kissed her soundly. She laughed and enthusiastically returned his kiss, running her fingers through his soft locks, blonder now from the summer sun. Caressing her side, he curled his fingers around her breast, squeezing gently and smiling against her lips when he felt the nipple harden, immensely glad that she was wearing her lighter summer corset which allowed for such discovery. Mary let out a tiny whimper and pressed closer to him. Time passed quickly as they lost themselves in the moment. Neither of them heard the soft footfalls on the grass until the visitor cleared her throat before speaking up.

"Lady Mary?"

Mary tore her lips away from his, and they stared at each other. Matthew's face started to look like a thunder cloud at the interruption. Mary stroked his cheek and stepped away from him, out into plain view.

"Yes, Anna?"

"I'm sorry to disturb you, milady, but Lady Grantham asked for you. She's in her room."

"Thank you, Anna. I will go at once."

Matthew sighed and leaned his head against the tree. Two more days.

~ O ~

Mary knocked on her mother's door, trying to collect herself. A cheerful '_enter'_ sounded through the door, and Mary turned the doorknob, stepping inside.

"Mary, there you are."

"Good morning, Mama."

Lady Grantham smiled at her daughter before turning back to O'Brien who had just finished tending to her hair.

"Thank you, O'Brien."

"Yes, milady."

Mary took a seat on the settee by the window, waiting for her mother to speak. Once the door closed behind her lady's maid, Cora turned to her daughter.

"What were you thinking?"

"I don't understand." Mary's eyes widened at her mother's change of tone.

"I saw you, Mary. You and Matthew."

"Doing what? We were just taking a walk!"

"He pulled you behind a tree. You were out of sight for a long time, Mary."

"Honestly, Mama! Nothing happened. And even so, we're getting married in _two days_."

"For _once_, will you please just listen to me?"

Mary started at her mother's sharp words and angry eyes. She nodded silently, watching Cora pace back and forth for a moment.

"People will talk, Mary. And they will not be nice about it." She knelt by Mary's feet and took her hands. "It's only two days, my darling. Please try to refrain from doing something that will damage your reputation."

Mary rolled her eyes, but nodded. "As I said before, Mama, nothing happened. We only kissed."

"I know, but one passionate kiss out of sight can easily lead to rumors starting and stories being embellished."

"Well, today is the Ladies' Picnic, so that should keep me out of trouble at least," Mary said with a cheeky grin.

Cora laughed and nodded. "I suppose. It will be fun, I promise you."

"And Matthew is still being banished to Crawley House as of tomorrow?"

"You know why." Cora smiled and cupped her daughter's blushing face. "It's for the best."

~ O ~

Dinner the night before the wedding was an earlier event than usual. Only immediate family was gathered in the dining room, the remaining wedding guests being wined and dined in another part of the house.

Matthew glanced at Mary, and their eyes met again. He smiled at her, and she blushed beautifully. Seeking her hand under the table, he stroked her fingers in a tender caress. Reluctantly letting go, he looked around the table at their family. Tomorrow night it would be just the two of them, and after that, they would be on their honeymoon, far away from family. It would be weeks, months even, before they would gather around this table again. Vowing to make an effort at conversation and pleasantry, Matthew smiled at the earl and countess. He knew Cora had planned this dinner with care, and he did not want to disappoint his mother-in-law-to-be on the eve before marrying her daughter.

"Shall we go through?"

The countess' gentle voice effectively broke up the party. Mary shot Matthew a quick glance as they got up. He leaned in to kiss her cheek.

"Wish me luck," he whispered.

"Oh Matthew," she sighed. "Papa is thrilled, and you know it."

"Perhaps. He might still have a go at it… to try and make me reconsider."

Mary rolled her eyes at him. "Will you please stop it? I might start to worry that you've changed your mind."

"Never, darling!"

His hand shot out, grasping hers. Mary stopped mid-step and looked up at him. Nodding once, she smiled and squeezed his hand.

"A silly joke, Matthew. It should teach you never to listen to what I say."

He chuckled and shook his head at her in amusement. Her hand slipped out of his as she joined her mother and sisters as they followed the other ladies to the drawing room.

~ O ~

Once the ladies had gone through, Matthew approached Carson. The butler raised an eyebrow in curiosity at the young man's apparent nervousness.

"Can I help you, Mr. Crawley?"

"I hope so, Mr. Carson." Matthew looked over his shoulder to where Lord Grantham and Patrick were talking while enjoying their drinks. "I wish to speak to Lady Mary's maid."

"Anna?" Carson's eyes widened a little in surprise.

"I have something for Lady Mary," Matthew explained. "I know that she will not see me tonight, claiming it bad luck to do so."

Carson chuckled and nodded. "She was fairly determined in that regard, Mr. Crawley."

"Exactly! So will you let Anna know? It is a gift, but it is a bit personal so I would prefer if the family did not know of it."

Carson nodded. "Leave it to me, Mr. Crawley."

"Thank you, Carson. Lady Mary speaks very highly of you, and ever since that night when you made hot chocolate for us, I have felt the same."

"Thank you, Mr. Crawley." Carson bowed his head ever so slightly. "Now, if you will please excuse me, I will go and find Anna."

"Of course!" Matthew chuckled. "Pardon my blubbering. I'm keeping you from the very task I asked you to assist me with."

"I think we can overlook it this time, Mr. Crawley. A man should be allowed to blubber and not make complete sense on the night before his wedding."

Matthew laughed at the butler's cheeky comment, delighting by the twinkle in Carson's eyes. Carson just bowed his head again before leaving the room.

"Matthew, what's keeping you?" Lord Grantham frowned at his soon to be son-in-law.

"Nothing, Robert. Just having a word with Mr. Carson."

"I see. Well, now that you're here, let's toast to you and my daughter."

Matthew took the offered drink and drank with Lord Grantham to the sound of the others' cheering.

~ O ~

"Mr. Crawley?" Anna said a little hesitant. "Mr. Carson said that you wished to speak with me."

"Anna. Wonderful." Matthew grinned at her. "I have a gift for Lady Mary that I wonder if you could put in her room tonight."

"Certainly, Mr. Crawley."

"Splendid! You're a life saver, Anna."

Anna giggled. "I wouldn't say that, Mr. Crawley, but a gift from you would certainly make Lady Mary happy, so how could I not help you with that?"

"I would of course give it to her myself, if she would let me," Matthew muttered.

"Oh no, Mr. Crawley." Anna's eyes widened in worry. "You can't see her again tonight. It's bad luck."

Matthew rolled his eyes and made a face at the maid. "Not you too."

Anna giggled and covered her mouth. "Mr. Crawley."

"Very well." Matthew pulled out the wrapped gift that he had kept hidden against his heart all evening. "If you would give this to her tonight, and make sure that she opens it, I would be forever grateful to you, Anna."

"Consider it done, Mr. Crawley."

"Thank you."

Anna smiled and nodded. "I will miss Lady Mary," she said softly. "She's ever so nice to me."

"I'm sure she will miss you too, Anna." Matthew sighed, again worrying about the adjustments Mary would have to learn to live with as his wife. "I'm afraid that I cannot afford a lady's maid at present time. We already have a maid in Manchester, and she will be assisting Lady Mary as well as my mother from now on."

"I understand, Mr. Crawley. I just wanted you to know that I'm very fond of her. It's an honor really, to be her ladyship's lady's maid on your honeymoon."

Matthew smiled at Anna. "Thank you. It means a lot to me to know that."

"Now, I'd better hurry upstairs with this before Lady Mary retires." She looked over Matthew's shoulder, then gave him a stern look. "I'd say you better go back in or return to Crawley House. She would not be happy to see you here tonight."

"Right. Of course." Matthew pulled a little at his waistcoat. "Thank you again, Anna. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mr. Crawley.

~ O ~

Mary smiled at Anna, who was waiting for her in her room.

"Oh Anna," she exclaimed, holding out her hands to the maid. "I am so excited, I don't think I'll be able to get a wink of sleep."

Anna giggled and led Mary over to the mirror, starting to unbutton her dress.

"I think you should try, milady. Mr. Matthew would not want you to fall asleep in the church."

Mary laughed and nodded. "That would be a sight, would it not? I can see the headline in the Sketch now: '_Earl's daughter falls asleep at her own wedding'_."

"You want to look your absolute most beautiful tomorrow, milady. Do try to get some sleep."

Mary nodded and raised her arms for Anna to slip the nightgown over her head. Once in her sleepwear, she stepped over to the vanity, taking a seat. She frowned at the wrapped gift sitting in the middle of the small surface.

"What's this?" She looked up, meeting Anna's eyes in the mirror.

"It's from Mr. Matthew, milady. He insisted that I give it to you tonight."

"I see." Mary smiled and ran her fingers over the beautifully wrapped gift.

Anna brushed Mary's hair before rolling it up onto little pieces of cloth. Once done, she inspected her work, making sure that Lady Mary's hair would be beautifully curled come morning.

"Is there anything else, milady?"

Mary shook her head. "Go to bed, Anna. We have a long day tomorrow."

Anna smiled and bobbed once. "Thank you, milady. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Anna."

~ O ~

The door closed behind Anna, leaving Mary alone with her thoughts and Matthew's gift. She gently pulled the ribbon and removed it before unwrapping the gift. Inside was a beautiful journal, her name engraved in gold on the lower right corner. She opened it, and her eyes widened. Matthew had written something in it! With the journal in hand, Mary curled up on the bed, reading Matthew's words to her.

_My Darling Mary,_

_Years ago, I gave you a journal for your fifteenth birthday. Most likely you have long since filled it with your dreams and secrets. Since you are about to embark on a new adventure in life, one that I am lucky enough to be a part of, I thought that perhaps you would enjoy documenting this journey as well. What better opportunity to start than on the eve of our wedding?_

_I hope this book will be filled with your thoughts on our life together; your joys and probably the occasional annoyance with my silliness. Perhaps this book won't last long enough to include your marvel over our first child, of his or her first word, first step, and all the other magical moments we have ahead of us, but nevertheless it will hold part of your soul and heart. _

_I cannot wait to start our life together, Mary. It's my deepest wish to make you happy, today and every day for the rest of our lives._

_With all my love, _

_Matthew_

"Oh, Matthew." Mary wiped a tear away.

Leaning back against the headboard, she reread Matthew's words. Once done, she gently put the gift down on the bed before getting up. It only took her a brief moment to locate the pen he had given her. She had cherished it over the years, and it was still her favorite. Curling up on the bed, she uncapped the fountain pen and started to fill the first page.

~ O ~

Lady Grantham smiled at her eldest daughter when their eyes met in the mirror. Mary was every bit the blushing bride Cora had always hoped she would be. She tenderly adjusted the veil over Mary's shoulders and stroked her cheek.

"Girls, Anna, I'd like a moment alone with Mary, please."

Edith rolled her eyes, but kept quiet at her mother's warning stare. Sybil stepped closer and took Mary's hands, smiling at her.

"You're so beautiful, Mary. Matthew won't be able to take his eyes off you." She beamed at her older sister as she leaned up to kiss her cheek. "I will miss you something terrible, but I'm so very, very happy for you, Mary."

"Thank you, darling. I will come and visit, and you can come and visit us too."

Sybil smiled and nodded. They both knew it would not be the same, but at least it was something. With a last glance over her shoulder at Mary, Sybil left the room, gently closing the door behind her.

"Oh Mary, my beautiful, beautiful daughter," Cora whispered. "I wish you all the luck in the world, my darling."

"Thank you, Mama. Watch out that you don't cry. We wouldn't want people to notice your red eyes."

"My eldest daughter is getting married. I think I'm allowed to cry a little." Cora chuckled and wiped her eyes.

She took Mary's hand and held her gaze for a moment. Her daughter's dark eyes held a spark of excitement but also the insecurity of the little girl she had once been. Cora cupped her cheek, smiling at her.

"Mary, from today on your life will be entirely different than what it is now. You will be Matthew's wife, his partner in life, his support, and his strength when he needs it, as well as his joy and desire as you go forward together."

"Mama!" Mary's eyes widened.

"I know that I'm not supposed to speak to you about desire, and I'm sure it makes you uncomfortable." Cora's face suddenly took on a somber look. "The thing is, Mary, I wish someone had on my wedding day." Mary frowned, but did not interrupt. "Your wedding day will be magical, a day you will always remember, and so will the wedding night." Cora held up her hand when Mary opened her mouth. "Please, darling, hear me out." Mary nodded. "When I married your father, we were both young and inexperienced. No one bothered to help by explaining things or shedding some light on the mysteries of marital intimacy, beyond the very basics. Because of it, our wedding night was one of worry and clumsiness."

"Mama," Mary whispered and looked away. "Please don't tell me about being intimate with Papa."

"Of course not. What I'm trying to tell you is don't be shy, Mary. If you wish for him to touch you, ask him to. The first time you're intimate with your husband can be uncomfortable, my dear. If he touches you intimately first, it will be less painful for you. That's all."

Mary was blushing at her mother's frank words. "I never thought I would hear you speak like this, Mama."

"I'm an American, Mary. I can be as frank as I want." She tugged at Mary's hand. "And know this, my darling: once you get to know each other and are past that initial hurdle – it will be such great fun!"

Cora laughed at Mary's wide-eyed stare. A teasing grin followed on the countess' lips. Mary giggled at the look of her mother, so different from her usual self.

"Thank you, Mama, for speaking to me as a woman."

Cora nodded. Mary leaned against her mother, who gently held her, careful not to mess up her dress, or hair.

"I will miss you so much." Cora cupped Mary's chin and smiled a little sadly. "When you arrived, you were the most wanted baby in all of England. It had taken us four years, and your Papa and I had almost given up on having children. And then you came along, the most precious and beautiful little girl."

"Oh, Mama."

"We were so happy, the three of us. You don't remember it, but we kept you with us all the time. Of course you had a nanny, but until Edith came along, I admit she had very little to do. Your granny was very upset with me for breaking with tradition, but I just couldn't bear to be apart from you. Thanks to my stubbornness, I was the first to hear you speak, the first to see you stand up and take your very first steps. And it was me you cried for when you were hurt or sad, not Nanny."

"I know I look more like you than Papa," Mary said very softly. "As a woman I appreciate that, but as a future mother, I do hope that my child will look like Matthew."

"I say you're a perfect blend of the two of us, with a healthy dose of your granny on top."

Mary laughed and covered her mouth. Meeting her mother's twinkling eyes, she nodded. It was, after all, true. In many ways, she resembled Violet Crawley more than either of her parents.

"I will leave you to have a moment alone to say goodbye to your old room and life. Please don't make your Papa wait too long. You know how anxious he gets." She kissed Mary's cheek and squeezed her hand. "Next time we speak, you will be a married woman. The best of luck and all the happiness in the world, my darling."

"Oh, Mama." Mary choked back a sob as she threw her arms around her mother. "I will miss you. What if I turn out not to be a good wife and mother? What if Matthew regrets marrying me?"

"Hush, silly girl." Cora smiled and took Mary's hands. "He adores you. I doubt there is anything you can do that would change that. Of course you're scared. I was too. You will learn, and you will learn together. And remember, I'm here if you have any questions at all."

"Thank you." Mary whispered her heartfelt thanks against her mother's cheek before pressing a kiss to it. "Thank you for everything."

~ O ~

No matter how much he had tried to behave as a calm and collected gentleman, Robert Crawley, Earl of Grantham, was pacing nervously at the bottom of the grand staircase, waiting for his daughter to appear. When he finally heard Mary's soft footsteps coming down the stairs, he turned and gazed up at her, his eyes wide and mouth slightly open. She stopped and smiled at him, tilting her head a little. It broke the spell and he chuckled, holding out his hand to her.

"My darling Mary, you are more beautiful than ever."

"Thank you, Papa."

"Are you ready?"

Mary nodded. The full impact of the meaning of this day finally hit her, and she trembled a little. Robert patted her hand where it rested on his arm. Understanding that this was an emotional event for her, he kept silent, his hands covering hers in warm comfort all the way out to the car.

~ O ~

Mrs. Hughes rolled her eyes at him. Mr. Carson was really too old to be rushing around like this. The new footman, William, and Mrs. Patmore's youngest kitchen maids had remained behind to make sure that things were in order and ready for the wedding party. Of course, Mr. Carson never really trusted any of them to do things right, hence his rushing out of the church at a speed that was almost inappropriate.

"Mr. Carson," she called after him as the two were alone outside the church, the rest of the wedding party still getting out of the pews inside.

He stopped and turned, frowning at her. "Yes, Mrs. Hughes?"

"We will still be back before everyone else. You know that." She smiled, amused at him, and gently rested her hand on his arm. "It's not good for you to get this worked up."

"I'm fine," he muttered and held the door for her, helping her inside the car.

"Of course you are." She raised an eyebrow as he just stood there, staring at her. "Close the door, Mr. Carson. We do need to get back to the house."

"Yes, of course." He slammed the door and took his seat next to the new Irish driver. "What are you waiting for? Drive."

"Yes, Mr. Carson." Branson shook his head as he put the car in gear and pulled out.

"Can't you go faster?"

"Not if you want us to make it back safely," Branson huffed, glaring briefly at the butler.

"If you say so."

"I do. Don't worry, Mr. Carson. The other cars will take care of the family until I get back to the church. As for Lady Mary, well, I think we're a bit faster than a horse drawn carriage." Branson chanced a glance at Carson, chuckling at the look on the man's face. "I happen to know that Mr. Crawley wanted to take the scenic route back. You can hardly blame the man for wanting a little privacy with his blushing bride."

"Mr. Branson!"

Branson just laughed and shifted gear again as he turned up towards the house. He squinted in the bright sunshine. It really was a beautiful day for a wedding.

~ O ~

To Carson's relief, the wedding reception started without any trouble. Mrs. Hughes had, of course, been right; the people they had left behind had been able to handle the last few things that needed to be done before the rest of the staff returned.

The old butler smiled when he heard Lady Mary laugh. His eyes instantly found her in the small crowd under the tent. She was smiling and talking, now and then gazing up at her husband. Carson could tell that she was happy, and it warmed his heart. As much as he would miss her, he was truly happy for her. Lost in thought, he started when her eyes met his. Recovering quickly he nodded, his lips curling up into a small smile. To his surprise and delight, she made her excuses to her husband and left the group of people, walking straight towards him.

"Carson." She smiled up at him, standing only a few feet away.

"Is there something I can do for you, my lady?"

"You could wish me good luck." She took a tentative step forward and offered him her hand. He quickly reached out to steady her when she almost stumbled. Her dark eyes met his, and he saw tears forming. "Oh, Carson, I will miss you so very much."

"As will I you, my lady."

She took a deep breath, but it came out as a tiny sob. He very gently tugged at her hand, and she eagerly stepped closer, resting her other hand on his broad chest, allowing his comforting embrace.

"I'm scared, Carson," she whispered.

"I have never seen you fail at anything, my lady," Carson teased. "I'm sure that you and Mr. Crawley will be very happy."

"Thank you," she looked up at him, and, standing on her toes, she pressed her lips against his cheek. "Thank you so much. You've always been my rock, Carson. I worry about taking this step, knowing that you will not be there to help me. I want you to be proud of me."

He smiled fondly at her. "I am. Believe me, my lady. I am so very proud of you. I have watched you since you were a wee little thing, growing and blossoming, turning into a beautiful and intelligent young woman. I only wish that I could be there to witness the rest of your journey."

"I know, Carson."

"Now, do dry your tears, my lady, or I fear that Mr. Crawley will come over here and punch me in the nose for making his bride cry."

She laughed, and he smiled at her. When he held out his crisp, snowy white handkerchief, she gladly accepted it and dabbed at her eyes. He took it back from her and nodded at her.

"Will I do, Carson?"

"Very nicely, my lady."

"Take good care of Papa for me." Mary gently squeezed Carson's arm. "I know that Mama will fare better than him, not that he would ever admit it." She glanced around and finally spotted Mrs. Hughes, not surprised when their eyes met. "And Carson..?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"Do take Mrs. Hughes into Ripon for tea one of these days. I know she would greatly enjoy it."

He frowned, and it made her laugh. "I suppose it would not hurt. She has been working very hard lately."

"As have you. Allow yourselves a little treat. I know that she will enjoy having you all to herself for a little while."

"My lady!" His eyes grew wide. "I've always behaved properly towards Mrs. Hughes."

"Of course." She leaned closer, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Perhaps it's time to live a little, Carson?"

He just gaped after her as she hurried back to Matthew's side. It was only the young man catching her, swinging her around, that finally made him recover from the shock of her words. Their eyes met again, and he made a face, but nodded. She grinned at him before turning back to Matthew.

~ O ~

Mary beamed at Matthew, and he squeezed her hand. The train jolted as it started to pull out of the station. She leaned out the window, waving goodbye to her parents and sisters. Once the train picked up speed, they sat down.

"Mrs. Crawley," Matthew teased.

"Mrs. Matthew Crawley," she corrected him.

Matthew chuckled and gave her a quick kiss. They were alone in the train compartment, but the door was open and people could walk by at any moment.

"As true as that is, you will always be Lady Mary Crawley, wife of Matthew Crawley."

She sighed and nodded, rolling her eyes. "If I must."

Matthew laughed and tugged her close to him as they settled in for the ride. They would be staying at Aunt Rosamund's this evening before embarking on their honeymoon in France the next day. Lady Rosamund was still at Downton, giving Mary and Matthew the privacy they so deserved on their wedding night.

Anna and Thomas were to accompanying them, and they were, at present time, tucked away in third class. Matthew had protested when Lord Grantham insisted that he needed a valet. Knowing very well that there was no valet in Manchester, Matthew felt no need for one now. Lord Grantham had insisted, and Matthew had finally given in. Mary's quiet comment about it being an adventure for Thomas as well made Matthew feel much better about it. He vowed to give Thomas as much free time as possible.

**_To Be Continued…_**

…

They are married! And off to London together.

The rating will go up for the upcoming chapter… well, _wedding night_ – hello! :D

What do you think so far?

Are you as excited for the honeymoon as M&M are?

There will be plenty of _intimate encounters_ in the upcoming chapters.

Consider yourself warned ;D


	7. Wedding Night in London

**Rating: **Mature (explicit! Um, it's their wedding night… do I really have to explain this?)  
**Spoilers: ** none since this is an AU starting before the Titanic incident

**Disclaimer:** Any names off characters you recognize from Downton Abbey are not mine. All original characters do however belong to me. Fanfiction is in my opinion the ultimate form of flattery to a screenwriter :)

…

_A huge thank you to the talented and wonderful __**R. Grace**__ who __has managed to assist with this chapter (fixing my mistakes, and adding numerous commas!) while being in the middle of a very busy RL._

I'm still terribly behind on answering comments and reviews. Please know that I treasure all of them, and I love when you share your thoughts. I have my favorite parts and scenes, but it's so lovely to hear which ones stood out to you, what really touched you, angered you, frustrated you or just made you go awww. LOL So, thank you, all of you, for reviewing and favoriting this story. The last chapter reviews especially had me grinning from ear to ear.

**A/N:**_ Regarding Branson's early entry on the stage… I know he didn't show up until later in the show, but I couldn't help wanting him there earlier in this story, if only to tease Mr. Carson. The scene with them in the car rushing back from the church wouldn't have been the same with the old driver. Please forgive this little artistic license on my part :D_

_They are married! Wedding night. Sexytimes. Honeymoon. I hope that you will enjoy it!_

_Let the honeymoon begin… _

_._

**Chapter 7 – Wedding Night in London **

Upon arrival in London, the newlyweds looked a little hesitantly at each other as they stood in the foyer of Aunt Rosamund's house in Eaton Square. It was Anna who brought them out of their daze by suggesting that Lady Mary come upstairs to freshen up after the trip. Mary smiled appreciatively at her maid and promised to be up right away.

"I suppose that we should at least make an effort to have dinner," Mary whispered against Matthew's lips once they were alone.

"I say we should." He kissed her, and pulled her close.

"I'll see you shortly then." Mary reluctantly stepped away from his embrace, instantly missing the warm feeling of him.

"Hurry, my darling, before I change my mind and toss you over my shoulder to carry you upstairs."

Mary laughed and stopped for a moment on the stairs. She raised her skirt a little, showing off her slender leg. Matthew's eyes widened, and she giggled. Letting go of her dress, Mary hurried upstairs, leaving a slightly flustered Matthew standing frozen in place at the foot of the stairs.

~ O ~

It turned out that they were hungrier than they thought and had managed to enjoy their dinner together quite a lot. Sitting close together at the corner of the large dinner table, they spoke softly while sipping their drinks between bites of quail and pommes à la dauphinoise.

Mary, usually not one for elaborate desserts, was pleasantly surprised by a generous slice of her favorite cake as a finish to their delightful dinner. Matthew found great pleasure in feeding Mary his cake, seeming to get clumsier and clumsier with each bite, forcing him to lean in to kiss the frosting away from her lips, her cheek, or the corner of her mouth. She was laughing so much by the fourth bite that Matthew gave up on the cake entirely and just pulled her to him, kissing her long and slow.

"Perhaps we should retire for the night?"

Mary licked her lips a little nervously and nodded. "Sounds good."

He stood and offered her his hand. "Lady Mary Crawley, please allow me to escort you upstairs."

Mary giggled and took his hand. "Why Mr. Crawley, you are quite the gentleman."

"So my wife says." His eyes twinkled with mirth as he leaned in and stole a kiss before tucking her arm securely under his. "And she's never wrong, at least that's what I've been told."

Mary just shook her head at his silliness. As he led her upstairs, she felt butterflies in her stomach. Neither of them spoke during the short trek, both too lost in thought over the important step they were about to take. He smiled and kissed her once, then opened the door to their bedroom where he spotted Anna waiting for her.

"Don't make me wait," she whispered. Her cheeks flushed pink as the words slipped from her lips.

Matthew chuckled and nodded, watching her close the door. Feeling giddy with excitement, he entered his dressing room.

~ O ~

Mary smiled at Anna in the mirror as her maid ran the brush through her hair one last time. When Anna offered to braid it, Mary just softly declined, her cheeks turning a little pink. Anna smiled knowingly and, instead, gave Mary's hair a few extra strokes with the brush.

Finally putting the brush away, Anna rested her hand on Mary's shoulder. Mary gently touched her and looked up at her.

"You look very beautiful, my lady."

"Thank you Anna," Mary said, smiling softly. "I keep wondering if this is all a dream - wonderful dream - and worrying that I will wake up any moment now to realize that it never happened."

"But it did happen, my lady," Anna whispered and bit her lip. "I better go. I can hear Mr. Matthew pacing in there. He'll have me head if I don't let 'im in soon."

"Oh Anna," Mary laughed as she rolled her eyes at her friend and confidant. "Thank you for making me laugh, and you're right. We better let him in."

Anna giggled and nodded. "I'll say goodnight then, my lady."

"Goodnight, Anna, and thank you so much. For everything. You truly helped make this day magical."

Anna blushed and nodded. "That's very kind of you to say, my lady."

"It's true."

Anna smiled one last time and quietly slipped out of the room. Once alone, Mary took a deep breath and got up. She straightened her nightgown, making it flow in soft waves to the floor. It was daringly sheer and made her blush every time she thought about it. She picked up her dressing gown and pondered putting it on. Finally making a decision, she eased into the beautiful garment, another purchase made especially for this occasion. With a last glance at her reflection in the mirror, Mary determined that she was as appealing as she possibly could be to her husband, while still dressed.

Mary rested her hand on the door knob for a moment. _Perhaps Matthew was not alone?_ She shivered at the thought of Thomas seeing her like this. Instead of opening the door, she gently knocked on it.

"Matthew?"

The door opened instantly and there he was, standing grinning at her.

"Darling," he said huskily and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "Are we alone?"

She nodded. With a joyous laugh, he wrapped his arms around her and swung her around. She put her arms around his neck and laughed at his silliness. He was warm and strong against her and she felt passion stir again. Mary held his gaze as she pressed her lips against his in a firm kiss.

Matthew gently put her down, but kept holding her firmly against him as the kiss deepened. She let out a little whimper, and it made him moan softly as he felt it against his lips. Stroking her back, he ran his fingers through her silky hair.

"Oh God, Mary," he sighed when they finally broke apart.

"I love you," she whispered.

In a swift move he gathered her up in his arms. "And I love you, so very, very much."

Mary laughed as he walked over to the bed that had already been turned down, and gently put her down. Looking down at her, he kicked off his slippers and removed his robe. Dressed only in his pale blue pajamas he joined her in bed. He gently rested his hand on her hip stroking her side with his thumb.

"Why is it that I'm more nervous now than I was back then?" Mary whispered and put her hand on top of his. "Last time we were risking so much by sharing a bed, and now we're expected to." She frowned a little as she struggled to explain her feelings. "Never mind, don't pay any attention to what I say."

"It's all right, darling. I'm nervous too," he breathed, smiling down at her. "I'm afraid of hurting you, or disappointing you, or possibly both."

Mary smiled and touched his cheek. "The first, I suspect, is unavoidable," she whispered. "And the second will never happen."

He nodded and tugged her a little closer. "At least I know a few things that you like," he teased.

"Matthew!" Mary's face felt warm, and she knew she was blushing.

"And I vividly remember what you did that made me feel good."

"As do I," she whispered.

Mary rested her hand on his chest, tracing the top button with her index finger.

"Open it," he whispered and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Mary gently eased the button open and stroked her fingers against his warm chest. He inhaled deeply, and she heard him swallow.

"And the next one."

Mary grinned and did as he asked. This time she pressed her lips against his chest.

"God Mary," he groaned and tightened his grip on her hip.

Mary kept peppering his neck with soft kisses as she opened the rest of the buttons until his shirt fell open. To her surprise, he had some pale blonde chest hair.

"You've changed," she said as she looked at his upper body. "The boy has become a man."

"And the girl I fell in love with has become a stunningly beautiful woman, with all sorts of lovely womanly charms."

Mary giggled as he nuzzled her neck. "And you approve of this?"

Matthew pulled away a little and grinned cheekily as he nodded. He moved his hand to cup her breast, stroking his thumb over the pointy nipple which was already straining against the fabric of her nightgown.

"I do indeed, my darling."

Mary's eyes fluttered shut and she sighed happily as he kept stroking her breast. "I like that."

Matthew kissed her, gently teasing her lips until they opened. She hummed and pressed against his leg. Matthew moaned at the feel of her warm female curves rubbing against him. He pulled back a little and they looked at each other. Without a word Mary ran her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, pushing his shirt off him.

"You're so handsome," she murmured as she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms.

"Thank you, darling."

Mary's hand settled on his waist and she ran a finger inside his pajama bottoms. Matthew groaned as her teasing finger traced the shape of his hip bone and the soft area next to it. The finger moved tortuously slowly and then suddenly stopped. He looked at her. Mary's eyes were a bit wider and then he felt her teasing finger move again, as if searching.

"You have a lot more hair," she whispered, her cheeks turning pink.

"I do," he said with an amused chuckle.

Mary withdrew and traced the blonde hairs below his navel down to where they disappeared under his bottoms. His erection was very noticeable as his manhood strained against the thin fabric of his pajamas. She very gently cupped him, rubbing him slowly up and down.

"Let me see you."

Matthew smiled and nodded. Raising his hips, he made quick work with the rest of his pajamas, finally kicking them off, sending them flying across the room. Not that either of them bothered to look.

Mary rested her hand on his thigh, and he gently placed his on top of hers. She was staring at his manhood, and it was starting to make him nervous.

"Darling?"

"You're… well, _larger_." She blushed as the words tumbled from her lips.

"I suppose that I am," he said and stroked her fingers. "Last time you saw me, I was sixteen."

"Of course." She smiled at him, trying to push any worry aside. "It was silly of me to be surprised that you had changed."

"Mary…" he murmured and leaned in to kiss her on the neck. "Please."

Mary squeezed his thigh, and he removed his hand, freeing her to trail her fingertips higher. Moving agonizingly slowly, she was rapidly driving Matthew insane. When her fingers eventually curled around him, he groaned with pleasure.

"Just as smooth as I remember. At least that hasn't changed."

"Dear God!"

Matthew gently removed Mary's hand after only a moment. Meeting her eyes, he crushed their lips together. Overcome by an urgent need to feel her skin, Matthew pulled at the tie holding Mary's dressing gown together, brushing it aside to run his hand down over her hip. He tugged gently at her nightgown, and Mary was quick to raise her hips to help him. A few seconds later, Matthew sent her nightclothes flying in the same direction as his pajamas. The two sheer garments were still floating in the air when their naked bodies touched.

"Oh, Matthew," Mary whimpered.

Matthew hummed against her neck, sucking and kissing that spot below her ear that made her toes curl. He could not get enough of her, moving his hands over her soft curves, familiarizing himself with her womanly charms. It had been his intention to take things slow, but his body was burning with need and, judging from Mary's sounds and squirming, she was in the same predicament. He inched down, placing kisses along her collar bone and then took her right nipple in his mouth. She gasped and let out a whimper, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Matthew sucked and pulled at the little peak. Her sounds became louder.

"Matthew," she gasped.

"Yes darling?"

"Would you..?" She cleared her throat. "With your mouth?"

Matthew grinned, noticing the increased blush on her face and chest. He slid his hand down her stomach and gently cupped her.

"Here? Is that what you want? For me to kiss you here?" He knew that he was teasing her, but he could not help it. He simply had to hear her.

"Yes!" she whimpered. "Please, Matthew. I need you."

With a last searing kiss to her full lips, he moved so he was kneeling between her legs. As he ran his hands up over her knees and inner thighs, Mary pulled her legs up in anticipation.

"You're stunning," he gasped at the sight of her pink folds, surrounded by a perfect dark triangle of hair. Unable to resist any longer, he leaned down and kissed her softly.

"Oh yes!"

Matthew's eyes fluttered shut as he devoured her. Fond memories of Mary surfaceed as he swirled his tongue over her most intimate place. He remembered the first time he had done this and how incredible it had been to discover it with her. Gentle fingers stroked over his hair to tangle in his blonde locks. It made him smile and he flicked his tongue over that spot that she loved to have touched.

"Matthew," she gasped.

He looked up. "Yes?"

"Perhaps… you know… shouldn't you… you know…"

He chuckled and nodded. "I do know. Trust me, darling."

She nodded and swallowed hard in anticipation. Matthew pushed her legs a bit further apart and swirled his tongue over her folds. She whimpered, and her fingers tightened in his hair. Returning to stroke over her little spot, he circled her entrance with his index finger, dipping it inside a little, teasing, delighting in the feel of her.

By the time he kissed his way up over her stomach and chest, Mary was trembling with need. She wrapped her arms around him, and their lips came together in a heated kiss. She moaned when she tasted herself on his lips.

Matthew ran his hand over her inner thigh, pushing a little for her to open her legs more. She broke the kiss when she felt him rub against her. Her brow furrowed and she whimpered when he pressed more firmly against her. He kissed her again and moved his hips, entering her. Mary cried out, and her legs tightened around him. Worried that he had really hurt her, he stopped.

"Ouch," she winced.

"I'm so sorry, my darling," he whispered and kissed her softly.

Mary finally opened her eyes, and he held her gaze as he slowly lowered himself. He could tell that she was uncomfortable. He kissed her lips and her neck, stroking her side and her breast, trying to make her feel good. Her whimpers got louder the deeper he went. He held still for a moment and took one of her nipples in his mouth, stroking and sucking it. She sighed, and he felt her relax a little. Deciding to try something else, he withdrew a little before pushing back in. Her breath caught and for a moment he thought that he had hurt her again, but the look on her face was one of wonder and pleasure.

"Oh God!"

Mary shivered and squeezed around him. Matthew groaned and did it again, causing Mary to let out a high-pitched whimper. He kept moving in short, shallow thrusts, easing further inside with each one until he was finally buried inside her, surrounded by her soft heat.

"Mary," he moaned.

She wrapped her arms around him, bringing him closer, pressing her knees against his sides. He stroked the back of her left thigh and gently pressed his palm against it, pushing her leg up further as he moved in longer strokes. Mary cried out and shook under him.

"Matthew! Please… oh God…"

Matthew moved faster against her, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold off his release. He could feel the tightening and he knew it was close. Easing up a little, he moved faster still. Mary cried out and started to pulse around him.

"Matthew," she gasped. "It's happening."

Matthew was beyond speech. He leaned down and kissed her. The angle changed, and she tightened around him sending him over. He moved frantically to prolong her release. Afterwards, he rested his head on her shoulder, careful not to weigh down fully on her. She held him against her, and he could feel her heart beat loudly under his ear. Now and then, she tightened around him. When he finally had enough strength to push up, he looked at her.

"I love you, Mary." He kissed her softly, then eased up, gently withdrawing. Noticing a few stains on the sheet and her thigh, he stroked her hip to comfort her. "How do you feel? Did I hurt you an awful lot?"

"Of course not," she said with a smile. "It was wonderful. You are wonderful, darling."

He laughed with joy and pulled her to him. Cupping her bottom, he held her close as their lips found each other again. She moaned when he stroked over her soft folds and rubbed that special spot. Her little sounds had him in quite a state in no time and he gently eased inside her, cradling her thigh over his hip. She gasped and pushed against him.

"Thank God we did not do this before," he gasped. "I would never have wanted to stop."

Mary laughed and nodded, then gasped and whimpered as his hand found her breast.

"Matthew… Oh, heavens…"

~ O ~

Mary gasped for air, still gripping Matthew tightly. Her eyes opened when she felt him withdraw. He stretched out next to her, his hand resting lightly on her stomach.

"My darling," he whispered softly, his fingers stroking gently over her still flushed skin.

"I'd say that you're rather good at that," she drawled, casting a glance his way.

Matthew laughed and tugged her closer. "_We_ are. I can hardly do this alone."

"True." She winced as she noticed how sticky she was. "Please excuse me for a moment."

He eased up on his elbow, watching her slip out of bed. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and appreciation when she bent down to pick up her dressing gown, in the process giving him a beautiful view of her bottom.

"Lovely," he murmured.

Mary's head snapped around, and she blushed. Hands on her hips, she mock glared at him. "Were you looking at my derriere, Matthew? Leering at me like a commoner without any manners?"

"I suppose I was." He made a face, but then laughed. "It was presented so very nicely. I _am_ your husband, darling. Surely I'm allowed to admire all your charms?"

She huffed and tightened the robe around her before slipping out to visit the bathroom.

~ O ~

Matthew woke with a smile the next morning. Mary was on her side, facing him, her hand resting on the pillow, under her cheek. She was still asleep, her breasts moving steadily as she was breathing slowly. He moved his hand from her hip and stroked his thumb over the side of her breast, marveling over its softness. Looking up at her face again, he took in her undisguised beauty. Her long hair was a little wild from their activity the night before. Matthew tenderly stroked a stray lock away, noticing how her eyelashes fluttered a little. Returning his hand to her hip, he watched her sleep.

Somewhere in the neighborhood, a clock chimed eight. Mary stirred, but she did not quite wake up. Impatient to see her smile at him, Matthew brushed his lips against hers. She moaned a little and rolled onto her back. He kissed her cheek and stroked her stomach. Finally, her eyelashes fluttered and her eyes opened. Matthew grinned at her.

"Good morning, my darling."

Mary blinked a few times as she tried to shake the fuzziness of sleep. Matthew, her _husband_, was smiling at her. His blonde hair was a mess, with that impossible curl falling down. His eyes were so blue, without a hint of the haze of sleep that Mary still felt. So many emotions bubbled up inside her in that moment. She swallowed when she felt tears well up. Lady Mary Crawley did not cry, and she was damned if she was going to cry in front of Matthew. Instead she turned her face towards the window, trying to collect herself.

"Mary?"

"Yes?"

"Are you all right, darling?"

She turned back and smiled at him. "Of course."

He was taken aback at the sight. She was wearing that smile that he had come to recognize as her polite one. He hated it because he knew it was a façade, hiding her real feelings.

"What is it? Please tell me."

Mary sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "It's just that… I never thought that I would actually have this."

"Have what?" he asked very gently, touching his fingers lightly to her chin.

"Happiness."

"Oh, darling."

Mary burrowed her face against his neck, drawing comfort from his embrace. Their legs tangled in a natural way, and when he pulled her closer, she discovered that he was aroused. She pulled back and looked up at him.

"You…"

He made a face and nodded. "Yes. You should probably know that it is a common occurrence in the morning."

"Is it now? What a delightful discovery."

Matthew laughed at her cheekiness. Holding her gaze he stroked his fingers over her breast. She smiled and leaned in for a kiss, but pulled back before their lips touched.

"What's wrong?"

"I haven't brushed my teeth," she mumbled, her face turned away.

"As if I care." Matthew pulled her closer and kissed her firmly.

Mary laughed and ran her fingers through his hair. He returned to touching her breast, which earned him a soft sigh from Mary. After a moment, he pulled her leg over his hip and stroked her intimately.

"Matthew," Mary whimpered softly as he kept stroking her, circling her little spot.

Pulling Mary closer, he started to ease inside her. Her brow furrowed. Not sure how she would feel, he was certain to go slowly. Once he was fully inside, he held still for a moment, just enjoying the feel of her and giving her a chance to get used to his presence there again. Finally pressing his lips to hers, he held her hip as he moved steadily against her. Mary whimpered, and her leg curled around his hip, her foot stroking over his buttocks. Shifting a little, he managed to enter her deeper, and her leg was now around his waist. He stroked her soft cheeks, now and then squeezing them. Noticing the smile on her lips and how she held him tight, he moved faster. Mary gasped, and let out a soft cry. When he took her right nipple in his mouth, her foot squeezed against his backside, pulling him to her as she cried out again. He felt her start to pulse around him, and he sped up. A moment later, he cried out as he joined her.

Mary rolled onto her back, and he slipped out of her. His eyebrows shot up when she winced as she closed her legs. Gently touching her cheek he made her look at him.

"Did I hurt you?"

"I'm just a little sore, darling," she explained.

"You should've told me." He frowned and gently stroked her stomach. "I don't want you to…"

Her fingers against his lips silenced him instantly. Mary smiled and shook her head.

"Darling, it was lovely. In case you didn't realize, I wanted to. I wanted _you_. I'm sure my body will adjust." He still eyed her warily, and she kissed him softly. "Come to think of it, I might just need some more practice," she teased.

Matthew laughed at that, and she snuggled close to him again as they rested comfortably together, basking in the delight of being allowed to do so.

~ O ~

Anna glanced at the clock in the servants' hall. It was past ten and still no sound from the couple upstairs. She sighed and got up when she heard the cook calling her name.

"Commin'," she muttered.

Grabbing a potholder, Anna picked up the bucket with steaming water to bring it upstairs for Lady Mary's bath. It was the third trip she had made to keep the bathwater hot. As she passed through the servants' hall again, the bell finally rang. She put down the bucket with a sigh.

"I'll take it," Thomas said, gesturing for her to hand over the potholder. He just rolled his eyes at her confused look at his generous offer. "It's not as if you can carry the tea tray and bucket at the same time, now."

"Thank you." Anna smiled a little at Thomas, still trying to figure him out. "Just leave it outside the bathroom, and I'll deal with it once I've taken the tea up."

Thomas nodded and picked up the bucket, quickly disappearing up the stairs. Anna shook herself out of her musings and hurried back into the kitchen to gather the tea tray.

~ O ~

Matthew smiled to himself where he sat in first class with Mary by his side. Lord Grantham had been wise to suggest a late departure. It was also fortunate that the train station was fairly close since by the time they were finally ready to leave, they had precious little time to make their train. Tugging Mary a little closer, he kissed her cheek as the train pulled out, taking them to Dover and the ferry that would bring them to France.

"Are you excited?" Mary whispered as she placed her hand on top of Matthew's.

"If I was any more excited, I would burst!"

She laughed at his grinning face. Glancing around to make sure that no one was near, Mary leaned closer and pressed her lips against his in a soft kiss. The kiss went on for a while, until a gentle clearing of someone's throat forced them apart. Mary's cheeks burned with embarrassment at being caught.

The conductor just smiled and after inspecting their tickets handed them back to Matthew.

"Just married?" Matthew grinned and nodded in confirmation. Touching his cap in greeting, the conductor smiled before leaving. "Congratulations."

As he disappeared out of sight, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

~ O ~

Thanks to Thomas' assertiveness combined with Anna's gentle pleading in passable French, all the luggage made its way safely onto the boat, but not before a few bills changed hands. Certain that Thomas had the situation under control, Anna made her way over to Mary.

"Is there anything you need, my lady?"

"Anna." Mary smiled fondly at the young woman. Noticing the wild look in Anna's eyes as the boat rocked, she reached out and grasped her arm. "Are you all right?"

"Oh yes, my lady." The boat rocked again and Anna started shaking. "I'm just not used to boats."

"Come, have a seat next to me."

Anna shook her head. "Oh, I couldn't, my lady."

"Of course you can."

Mary smiled encouragingly and tugged at Anna's arm. The boat made a noise as it pulled out, making Anna squeak. She almost tumbled down next to a now chuckling Mary.

"I'm so terribly sorry, my lady."

"Nonsense. Boats usually protest when having to leave their homeport. This one appears to be no exception. Now just settle back and talk to me." Mary picked up the extra blanket next to her. "Here, you can use Mr. Crawley's blanket."

Anna smiled and whispered a "thank you" before tucking the blanket securely around her. The wind had picked up a little and the temperature was starting to fall as it was getting late in the day. Matthew returned a moment later, reclaiming his seat on the other side of Mary.

"I asked Thomas to bring us some tea." Glancing at Anna, he spoke to the two of them. "Anna, Thomas informed me that it is quite rowdy downstairs. I suggest that you stay here with Lady Mary, and that he bring your tea as well."

Mary's eyes widened and she looked at Anna. "Absolutely. Your safety is very important to me, Anna."

"Thank you, milady."

Thomas chose that moment to show up with a tray holding three cups of tea.

"I'm sorry, my lady, but the service onboard leaves much to be desired. I hope that this is drinkable. If nothing else, it's at least hot."

Matthew chuckled and nodded. "I'm sure it will be just fine, Thomas. Thank you."

In truth, though not the worst she had ever had, it was far from the best tea Mary had ever tasted. It was a tad too sweet, but it was hot and it warmed them all up. As the sun started to set, Mary smiled happily where she sat next to her husband, holding his hand in a gentle grasp. Now and then his thumb moved over the back of her hand in a tender caress.

~ O ~

By the time they arrived at their hotel in Paris, it was dark. Thomas' and Anna's efficiency again proved itself useful as Mary and Matthew found themselves in their suite within minutes of arrival. Thomas called for dinner to be sent up and Anna saw to unpacking Lady Mary's most essential items while Mary and Matthew relaxed in the parlor section of the suite.

Curious about the view from their hotel room, Matthew walked over to the window, peering outside. He gasped at the sight and turned to Mary.

"Darling, come here."

Mary rose, an eyebrow arched in curiosity over his clear excitement. As soon as she was within reach, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Pointing at something outside the window, he encouraged her to look. Mary's eyes widened at the majestic sight of the Eifel Tower rising over the city.

"Oh my," she whispered.

The monument was lit up by soft electric lights. It was as if it shimmered in the darkness, an almost surreal looking beacon in the night. They stood silently by the window, admiring the sight until Thomas cleared his throat behind them.

"Dinner is served, my lady."

"Thank you, Thomas."

As soon as Mary and Matthew were situated, Anna and Thomas left to see to their own rooms and the remainder of the luggage. Anna's stomach rumbled, but she knew that there was no time for dinner until after she had helped Lady Mary undress for bed. Pushing any thought of dinner out of her head, she focused on the different cases and trunks to find the ones she needed.

~ O ~

By the time the day came to a close, encasing the city in darkness, four tired people slept in their soft Parisian beds. Matthew was spooned up behind his wife, who was again dressed in her silky nightgown. Too tired for anything but sleep, the two had cuddled and shared lazy, sleepy kisses before drifting off to sleep. On the other side of the hotel, facing the quietness of the back alley, Anna and Thomas had fallen, exhausted, into bed after a quick dinner. Their rooms were on the same floor, but at opposite ends of the hallway. Close enough for convenience, yet far enough apart for privacy; something which Thomas, in particular, would come to appreciate in the days to come.

_**To be continued…**_

…

**Fun Facts:** Eiffel Tower Facts - _Initially, the Eiffel Tower was lighted by gas, having some 10,000 gas street lamps lighting the tower and platforms. This was upgraded to electrical lighting, using 3,200 lamps, for the Universal Exposition of 1900. Since then, the tower's lighting has been enhanced periodically. In 1925, André Citroën lighted up the tower, using 250,000 colored lights, with a boldly lighted advertisement for his company spelling out the word "Citroën". In 1937, for the International Exposition of Arts and Techniques, André Granet added colored lighting to the tower. 252 Yellow-orange sodium tinted lamps were installed in 1985._

**A/N**_: We missed out on the entire honeymoon on the show. I can understand why (shooting budget, shooting on location etc.), but I would still have liked to have seen something (more than Matthew admitting to his father-in-law that he had sex! (: With that said, it is my intent to give Mary and Matthew a lovely honeymoon in France that will span a few chapters. Anna and Thomas will have their own Parisian adventures too! _

_Will you join me for the __**Downton French Adventure**__?_


	8. Paris, City of Love

**Rating: **Mature (Explicit! Um, they are on their _honeymoon_… do I really have to explain this? Secondly… there area few Male/Male intimate scenes in this chapter - see comment further down.)  
**Spoilers: ** none since this is an AU starting before the Titanic incident

**Disclaimer:** Any names off characters you recognize from Downton Abbey are not mine. All original characters do however belong to me. Fanfiction is in my opinion the ultimate form of flattery to a screenwriter :)

…

_A huge thank you to the talented and wonderful __**R. Grace**__ who __has managed to assist with this chapter (fixing my mistakes, and adding numerous commas!) while being in the middle of a very busy RL._

I'm still terribly behind on answering comments and reviews. Please know that I treasure all of them, and I love when you share your thoughts. I have my favorite parts and scenes, but it's so lovely to hear which ones stood out to you, what really touched you, angered you, frustrated you, or just made you go awww. LOL So, thank you, all of you, for reviewing and favoriting this story. The last chapter reviews especially had me grinning from ear to ear.

**A/N:**_ Thomas… well, he's getting some action – yup! Just wanted to share that up front, in case anyone don't feel up to getting tangled in the sheets with Thomas and his new beau. It isn't too graphic, but hey, I needed to give Thomas a little action, people! He's in PARIS – city of sin, love and all sorts of delightful possibilities (away from prying British eyes). Anyway, you'll see it coming. I'm making no excuses for giving Thomas a good time! He deserves it. I am certain that if he had a gorgeous boyfriend to snuggle up with at night he would be a much nicer person to have around. The boy is sexually frustrated! There you have it. He just wants some __**boyboy action**__… and all he gets is O'Brien's bitchiness… can you blame the poor dear for being angry all the time? :D_

_They are married! Paris. Honeymoon. Sexytimes. I hope that you will enjoy it!_

_Let the Parisian Adventure begin… _

_._

**Chapter 8 – Paris, the City of Love**

Anna sat for a moment on the edge of her bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The sharp knock on her door that had woken her up, alerting her to that it was seven o' clock, was not much different from at Downton. Some things never change, she mused. Even if one happened to be in Paris. Rising, she walked over to the window and stretched, peering outside.

After cracking the window a little, she began her morning routine, washing up and getting dressed. There was still plenty of time before she was supposed to wake Lady Mary and Mr. Crawley, allowing Anna the luxury of stepping out for some breakfast.

A quick conversation with the concierge steered her in the direction of a small café around the corner from the hotel. Taking a seat by the window, Anna ordered coffee and a croissant. She bit her lip, trying not to giggle. The thought of _her_, Anna Smith, sitting in a café in Paris, seemed unattainable for a country girl from Yorkshire. She wished that she had brought some stationery with her so she could write home about it.

The coffee was smooth, the pastry flaky and incredibly delicious. Having never had a croissant before, she made sure to savor the experience. Coffee eventually gone, and the pastry devoured, she reluctantly paid and left her little haven.

Upon return to the hotel, she ordered breakfast to be brought up at nine before continuing upstairs. Taking out the spare key to the parlor suite, Anna let herself into the Crawleys' residence. To her relief, everything was quiet, indicating that her employers were still asleep. Making her way over to the trunks that held Lady Mary's things, she gathered what she needed. Mary's dresses were already hung up in the bedroom armoire. She had seen to that the night before. Once the couple departed to discover the city, Anna could properly unpack the rest of Lady Mary's things. Glancing at the clock on the mantle, she confirmed that it was almost nine. As if on cue, a sharp rap on the door announced the arrival of the Crawleys' breakfast. Anna quickly opened and let the waiter in, speaking in hushed voices so as not to wake the still sleeping couple.

~ O ~

Mary smiled and gently touched her hair. Pleased with the result, she turned and faced the maid.

"Anna, I've meant to speak to you about something."

"Yes, milady?"

"You've been marvelous as a lady's maid, Anna, but I can't help but think that some formal training here in Paris would be helpful for you in the future, should you decide to give it a go for real. I was thinking that perhaps you would be interested in learning something about the latest trends in Parisian hair and fashion. Mr. Crawley and I will be gone most afternoons while we're here in Paris, which would give you a perfect opportunity to do so."

Anna's eyes widened, and she started to stutter a response. Mary chuckled and took the young woman's hand.

"Milady, I don't know what to say."

"I will pay, naturally." Letting go of Anna's hand, she got up. "Why don't you try to find some information about it today?"

"Thank you, milady. I will."

"Marvelous." Mary smiled and touched Anna's arm as she passed her on the way to join Matthew, who was waiting for her in the parlor, most likely pacing, impatient to get going. "We can speak more about it tonight."

"Have a wonderful day, milady."

"Thank you, Anna. You too."

~ O ~

Matthew was filled with excitement as he walked down the street from the hotel with his beautiful wife on his arm. Mary looked stunning in her new outfit, commissioned especially for their honeymoon. He smiled at her, which she returned, and straightened up a bit more with pride.

"What would you like to do first?"

The question was a valid one. On the train from London they had eagerly discussed what they wanted to do in the City of Love. Matthew had a fondness for museums and old buildings, whereas Mary leaned more towards more contemporary sights and shopping. They had eventually agreed on visiting some art galleries and that the Eifel Tower was a must. Matthew had negotiated a few hours at the Louvre, which Mary had countered with a promise of a stroll through the Luxemburg Garden.

"How about just walking a little?" Mary's eyes were filled with excitement. "Allow ourselves to be a little spontaneous, for once."

"Of course, darling." Matthew's eyes twinkled happily at her suggestion. He really enjoyed when Mary was spontaneous.

"Perhaps we could visit Montmartre?"

"Are you certain? I've heard that it is a bit rowdy."

"Darling, how rowdy can it be in broad daylight? I want to see the painters, and perhaps visit Sacre Coeur. You wouldn't want to miss that, would you?"

"I suppose not." He chuckled and tugged her closer, cupping her cheek before placing a kiss on her pink lips.

"Matthew!" Mary's eyes widened at the public show of affection.

"No one knows who we are."

"I know, but honestly..." Mary glanced around, certain that the entire city was looking at her by now. Surprisingly, no one appeared to even look twice at them.

"No one is paying any attention to us. I promise."

Mary gave him a hooded look and then leaned up to press her lips against his in a firm kiss, stroking her tongue over his lower lip. Matthew's eyes widened before he lost himself in the kiss. They broke apart and looked at each other, gasping slightly.

"It does have some appeal," Mary drawled.

~ O ~

Thomas moved the brush over Matthew's shoulders one last time, then took a step back, inspecting his work.

"Thank you, Thomas." Matthew turned and smiled at his valet, still not quite comfortable with the arrangement imposed on him by Lord Grantham. "Lady Mary and I might stay out late, so why don't you call it a night after this? No reason for you to stay up waiting for us."

"If you're certain, Mr. Crawley."

Matthew smiled and squeezed Thomas' shoulder. "Quite sure."

"Do you wish for me to wake you at any specific time tomorrow, Mr. Crawley?"

"I don't think so. But I suppose Lady Mary will want to see more of the city tomorrow, so we'd better not sleep the entire day away. Why don't you come by around nine thirty?"

"Very good, Sir."

"Have a good night, Thomas." Matthew smiled at him as he left the room to rejoin his wife.

"Thank you, Sir."

~ O ~

Thomas straightened up a little, pushing his shoulders back, trying to look confident as he strolled down the darkened street in Montmartre. Music and laughter filtered out from cafes and clubs as patrons entered or left to disappear into the dark night. His interest peaked when he spotted a group of young men approaching him. They were nicely dressed and appeared to be in a very good mood. Thomas took in their appearance as they came closer. One of them looked his way, and Thomas almost took a step back at the intensity of the dark eyes that met his. The young man smiled at him and removed his hat. His blonde hair fell into his eyes, instantly reminding Thomas of Matthew Crawley.

"Monsieur, bon soir."

"Bon soir." Thomas grinned and tipped his hat.

"Oh," the man stopped and looked closer at Thomas. "Anglais? English?"

"Yes." Thomas impulsively held out his hand in greeting. "Thomas Barrow, at your service."

"Monsieur Barrow, the pleasure is mine, I assure you," the young man said with a wide grin. "Armand St Claire."

Thomas grinned, and they shook hands. "Are you from Paris, Monsieur St Claire? If so, perhaps you would be so kind as to recommend a place for nightly entertainment? I only just arrived yesterday."

"Armand. Allez!"

"Monsieur Barrow, would you care to join us?"

"Armand." One of the other men eyed Thomas a little suspiciously and gave Armand a warning glare.

"How could I decline such a lovely offer?"

Armand chuckled, and their eyes met again. Thomas felt a flutter in his stomach. Armand was a very handsome young man.

"I should warn you, Monsieur Barrow, Paris has a wide variety of entertainment. Where we are headed might surprise you, shock you even."

"In what way?" Thomas smiled at Armand, noticing the charming little smirk. "I can assure you that I'm not easily shocked, Monsieur."

Armand patted Thomas' back and wrapped his arm around his shoulders. "Delightful!"

Thomas' breath caught at the feel and smell of the handsome frenchman. He turned his head and their eyes met again. Armand grinned and squeezed Thomas' shoulder.

~ O ~

Mary chuckled at Matthew's flushed face. Taking his arm, she leaned closer.

"Perhaps I should get an outfit like that?"

Matthew just stared at her, his face turning redder as his body reacted to her teasing.

"The mental image is more than enough, darling," he choked out.

"Still…" She frowned slightly as she appeared to be pondering the issue. "Ballet was part of my education growing up." She gazed innocently at him, her eyelashes fluttering a little. "I'm sure that I'm still flexible enough to kick just as high as those girls."

Matthew made a strangled noise at the thought of his wife's flexibility. They had finished their evening out with a visit to Moulin Rouge. Knowing that the entertainment was daring, he had only a vague idea of what they were about to witness as the cancan girls came rushing out, screaming and laughing, holding up their skirts as they kicked their legs high in tune to the music.

"And who do you plan on showing off this skill of yours to?"

"Matthew!" Mary rolled her eyes. "Only you, of course." She chuckled and smirked a little at him. "On the other hand, the thought of the look on Papa's face, should I give a performance at Downton, might be worth the certain lecture on proper behavior."

"Over my dead body," he muttered.

"Probably not, but perhaps it will be the death of Papa, so I think I'd better not."

"Wise decision."

They walked past some bars and restaurants, neither ready to call it a night and head back to the hotel. A small café on the corner looked especially inviting; Matthew tugged Mary over in that direction.

"Where are we going?"

"How about a drink, darling?"

"Now you want a drink?" Mary rolled her eyes. "We left a perfectly good bottle of champagne behind at the cabaret, you know."

"I do know that." Matthew gritted his teeth as his body started to react to the memory of the cancan dancers. "You also know that it was for the best to leave."

"Oh, Matthew." Mary fondly kissed his cheek. "I'm sure you were not the only one reacting to the girls' _charms_."

He gaped at her, and then nodded silently. She was right of course. The truth of it was that as mesmerizing a sight the cancan girls had been, it was only part of the reason for their urgent departure.

"I'm sure that you're right, but darling, you see, some of those men were starting to look more at you than at the performance."

"Me?" Mary laughed and shook her head. "Surely you're mistaken."

"Not in the slightest."

"I see." She looked away. "Why does it matter if they look?"

"Why?" he sputtered. "They were undressing you with their eyes, Mary!"

Her head snapped back around. "Matthew!" She closed her mouth when she noticed how serious he looked. They came to a stop outside the small café, and Mary turned to place her hand on his cheek. "Darling, you're the only man who will ever see me in undress."

"Perhaps we don't need another drink after all," he murmured, leaning in to her touch. "I suddenly feel this urgent need to undress my beautiful wife."

Mary made a face, trying to look stern, but failed and, instead, burst out laughing. Turning their back on the café, they eagerly looked down the street for any sight of a cab.

~ O ~

Thomas handed his hat and coat to the young man at the coat check. Following the group inside, he was surprised to see that there were no women present. His eyes widened when he realized what kind of establishment this was. He had heard of them, of course, but he had never dared set foot in one. A gentle hand on his arm startled him, and he flinched.

"Monsieur Barrow?"

"Thomas." He leaned closer to Armand. "Please, call me Thomas."

Armand laughed and steered Thomas over to the table his friends had secured for them. Soon, champagne was flowing and introductions were made. Thomas watched in fascination as the two men across from him touched each other in a very intimate way. There was no doubt about it; Frederic and Bertrand were a couple. Thomas laughed a little nervously when the two kissed. Armand leaned closer, and Thomas could feel his warm breath caress his ear.

"Have we shocked you yet, my handsome friend?"

Thomas turned and met Armand's eyes. "Far from it. Their love is beautiful to watch."

Armand just held Thomas' gaze for a long moment. Finally, he reached for Thomas' hand.

"Would you care to dance?"

Thomas swallowed a little nervously. Unable to formulate any words, he just nodded. Armand stood and gestured for Thomas to precede him to the dance floor. Once standing by a myriad of men swaying together to the music, Thomas was at a bit of a loss. He had only ever danced with women, and there had never been any question about who was to lead. As if sensing Thomas' confusion and worry, Armand reached for him and pulled him into his arms, steering Thomas further onto the dance floor.

Feeling a young man's body pressed against his in this way for the first time set Thomas' pulse racing. He felt the veins at his temples pound as his heart pumped faster.

"Relax, mon cher," Armand whispered against his ear. "You're safe here."

"I'm afraid that I'm not used to this," Thomas stuttered a little nervously.

"I thought as much." Armand leaned back to meet Thomas' eyes. "But you have wished for this, _non_?"

Thomas nodded. Armand grinned, again showing off his beautiful smile. Feeling a little more confident, Thomas pulled his dance partner closer. Armand chuckled and brushed his cheek against Thomas'. The two continued swaying together to the music on the crowded dance floor.

~ O ~

Matthew proved that evening that, even though he had never performed the duty before, he was quite skilled, though not necessarily neat, at undressing his wife. With a lot of giggles and kisses, they somehow made it to the bed, leaving a trail of wrinkled garments in their wake.

Mary grinned at Matthew as she raised her leg up in the air, doing a fairly good impression of the cancan dance.

"See?"

Matthew chuckled and nodded. Kneeling on the bed he stroked her legs, gently pushing them up.

"Let's see just how flexible you are, darling."

~ O ~

Frederic and Bertrand were the first to leave, their departure followed by friendly teasing and colorful suggestions that had Thomas' ears turn warm.

"Have you ever had absinth?"

Thomas shook his head at the question posed to him by Armand's friend, Serge. "I'm afraid I haven't."

"Garçon!"

In short time glasses with a clear green liquid were placed in front of them. Armand explained the procedure to Thomas as he placed the sugar in the special strainer. Once the concoction was ready to drink, Thomas picked up the now slightly cloudy beverage and sipped it. It was strong, and he made a face. Armand chuckled and squeezed his thigh. Thomas put the glass down with a hand that only shook a little.

"Bloody hell! That's strong, in'it?"

Armand laughed, and his fingers stroked along the inseam of Thomas' trousers. Their eyes met and Armand leaned closer and pressed his lips against Thomas'. Thomas reached up, running his fingers through Armand's soft hair. He gasped when Armand squeezed his thigh, giving Armand the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss. Thomas' head was spinning with this new experience. He had never felt any thrill while kissing women in the past. Armand's kiss had his head swimming, and his stomach did nervous little flips.

"Come," Armand whispered and rose. "Let's go."

Thomas nodded and followed Armand out of the club, stopping briefly to pick up their hats and coats before venturing out into the dark Parisian night together. Thomas was filled with nervous energy, trying to figure out where Armand was taking him. He had a fairly good idea. _Was he ready?_ He glanced at Armand, and his stomach did a flip again. Yes, he concluded. He was ready for whatever fate had in store for him this night.

~ O ~

Anna flipped through the French magazine, intently looking at the pictures and painstakingly reading and translating the comments. Her french was rusty, at best. In preparation for the trip, she had tried to study a little every night, and Lady Mary had helped her practice her pronunciation. Anna sighed and gazed out the window. Lady Mary sounded almost french when she spoke. Anna knew she would never be able to speak the language as beautifully as Lady Mary.

Returning to the magazine, she studied the haircuts and dresses, trying to learn as much as she could about the latest trends. Her training at Mme. Balfour's was to begin the next day, and she was beside herself with worry about it. It was not just the language, it was the fact that she was not a real lady's maid and that she was a country girl. Anna knew perfectly well that she was not very sophisticated. It had never seemed to matter in the past, but now she wished more than anything that she had a bit of the suave worldliness that the city girls seemed to always embody.

~ O ~

Thomas slowly entered the apartment while Armand hung up their coats. It was not very large, but tastefully decorated and clean. Some fresh flowers sat in a vase on the coffee table. Thomas was startled out of his silent inspection by Armand's arms wrapping themselves around his waist. He laughed a little nervously.

"Thomas?"

Thomas pulled away and turned to face Armand. He smiled and leaned into the touch when Armand cupped his cheek. A moment later their lips came together in a heated kiss. Thomas hummed his approval when he felt Armand loosen his bowtie and unbutton the top couple of buttons on his dress shirt.

"Oh God!"

Thomas' eyes widened as Armand's lips brushed over his neck and down his chest in time with his shirt coming undone. When Armand grabbed the now fully opened shirt and yanked it back over Thomas' shoulders, he laughed a little nervously. The shirt fell to the floor and Armand ran his hands over Thomas' shoulders and down his arms, to settle on his chest.

"You're very handsome," he murmured against Thomas' neck.

Thomas groaned softly as Armand placed kisses on his neck. When he felt teasing fingers stroke his nipples through his undershirt, he grabbed Armand by the hips and pulled him firmly against him. They both gasped at the feel of the other's clear excitement. Armand looked up at Thomas as he started to unbuckle Thomas' trousers. Thomas stilled his hands and smirked.

"Not so fast. You first."

Armand laughed and removed his dinner jacket. Walking backwards towards the bedroom, he pulled his bowtie open before unbuttoning his shirt. Thomas grinned and followed.

Armand undressed while watching Thomas from behind. Once done, he stepped up behind Thomas, stroking his hands over Thomas' muscular back. Thomas, in the middle of removing his trousers, swayed a little when Armand touched his bare skin. Had Armand not steadied him, he would have fallen. Making quick work of his trousers, Thomas straightened up, leaning back against his soon-to-be lover. He closed his eyes, basking in the feel of the warm, firm body pressed against him. His eyes flew open when Armand slipped his hand inside his underwear.

"Fuck!"

Armand laughed at Thomas' exclamation. Easing Thomas' underwear down his legs he ran his hands back up over his thighs to once again touch him intimately. Thomas jumped at the touch. Armand gently stroked over Thomas' stomach and chest while slowly moving his fingers over Thomas' firm arousal.

"Relax, my handsome man."

"Easy for you to say," Thomas muttered.

Armand kissed his shoulder and stepped away. He stretched out on the bed smiling up at Thomas, all while leisurely stroking himself.

"Come here."

Thomas took in the erotic sight of the naked man of the bed, and his pulse quickened.

"My Adonis," he whispered.

Armand patted the bed next to him, and Thomas eased down. When Armand draped his leg over him while kissing him firmly, Thomas almost wept at the wonderful feeling.

~ O ~

Thomas woke to the sound of pigeons cooing outside the window and the sun peeking through the gap in the curtains. He glanced at the clock, sighing in relief when he noticed that it was still very early. He turned and smiled at the man next to him in the bed. Armand reminded him even more of Matthew Crawley while asleep, his blonde locks tousled and falling down over his eyes. Thomas gently smoothed the hair away and placed his palm against Armand's cheek. A moment later Armand's long, dark eyelashes fluttered, and he opened his eyes, blinking a few times.

"Bonjour, mon chèr."

"Bonjour." Thomas grinned at him. Moving closer, he pressed his lips against Armand's in a gentle kiss.

"No regrets, my handsome boy?"

"None at all," Thomas assured him with a cheeky grin.

Armand laughed and rolled him over, playfully holding him down on the bed as he rubbed himself against him. Thomas grinned and grabbed the cheeky Frenchman's buttocks, pulling him down harder. Thoughts of Matthew Crawley, shining shoes and ironing shirts, and every other duty of the day, flew out of Thomas' head the moment Armand's fingers closed around his arousal. When experienced lips teased him to a new level of pleasure, Thomas' eyes rolled back in his head, and he burrowed his fingers in Armand's soft hair.

~ O ~

Thomas hurried through the hotel doors and headed straight for the stairs. He was running extremely late, but, as he recalled the delightful reason why, he could do nothing but grin. Back in his room, he tore off his clothes and washed up before donning a fresh suit. A quick glance at the clock on the desk told him that he had another five minutes before he was due upstairs in the suite. A gentle knock on his door startled him, and he froze in place. Fear coursed through his body for a moment. _Had he been followed? Had someone seen him with Armand and called the police?_

"Thomas? Are you in there?"

He let out a sigh of relief and opened the door. "What do you want? I'm late."

"Well, good morning to you too," Anna muttered and made a face. "I only came to let you know that I brought Lady Mary and Mr. Crawley their breakfast about fifteen minutes ago. Mr. Crawley informed me that they will be taking luncheon in their room and to tell you to come upstairs shortly before one. They are going to the Luxemburg Gardens this afternoon, and they are having dinner with the British Ambassador this evening, at the Embassy. Mr. Crawley will need his formal attire since it's a white tie event. They are leaving at seven. He wishes for you to arrange for the motor to be ready for them."

"I know that," Thomas snapped. "Anything else?"

"No, that's it."

"Very well," he grabbed the door handle as if to close the door. "I'll see you later then."

"Sure."

Thomas closed the door in Anna's face, remaining in place for a moment as he listened to the sound of her footsteps disappearing down the hall. He let out a deep sigh and removed his shirt again. Undressing, he walked over to the bed. Setting the alarm clock was the last thing he remembered before passing out on the bed to catch up on some much needed sleep.

~ O ~

Matthew pulled the sheet down, exposing Mary's body. Her eyebrow arched up in question. He just grinned at her as he drew invisible patterns on her stomach and chest, circling her nipples, then moved down her arms. Mary hummed and stretched. She tried to turn, but he placed his hand on her hip, holding her down.

"Stay." The request was whispered against her shoulder and followed by a kiss. "Please."

Mary hummed again and ran her fingertips up his arm. "Will it be worth it?"

Matthew chuckled and moved closer, brushing his lips against her ear as he whispered softly to her. "I promise." Pulling back so he could look into her eyes, he whispered his last request. "Close your eyes."

Mary defiantly held his gaze for a moment, but, finally, her eyelashes fluttered as she closed her eyes. Matthew kissed her, teasing her by tracing her lower lip with his tongue. Mary's lips parted and he stroked his tongue against hers. Kissing Mary was still one of his favorite things. He could lose himself in the taste of her lips and mouth. Before his arousal could get the better of him, he pulled his mouth away from her full lips. Mary whimpered a protest. He gave her a soft, reassuring kiss.

"Trust me, my darling."

"Always."

Matthew ran his fingers down Mary's slender neck and along her collarbones, down her breasts, but avoided her nipples. She smiled and sighed softly, clearly enjoying the touch. When he ran his finger around her navel a few times she giggled, as this touch tickled.

"I remember the first time I touched you like this."

"Then you should remember my warning that keeping it up would make me scream with laughter," she said a little smugly.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against the spot, circling it with his tongue. She let out a sharp, high-pitched whimper, and he felt a tremor go through her body. Moving away from the ticklish spot, Matthew brushed his lips over the soft, flat area between her navel and hip bone. Mary moaned softly and grabbed the sheet under her when he kissed and nibbled the spot.

"God! Matthew!"

"Good?" He grinned against her skin, pleased with the response.

"Incredible."

Pleased, he moved to the other side, knowing that she was less sensitive there. He was determined to build her up slowly. They had all the time in the world, and he wanted her to reach a level neither of them had ever experienced. Kneeling between her legs he continued to kiss her stomach while caressing her breasts, now and then teasing her nipples. When he felt her push up against his hands, he twirled her nipples, pulling gently, as he drew them to firm little peaks. Mary whimpered and moaned as she squirmed under him.

"Please, Matthew."

He inched up and took one nipple in his mouth while still playing with the other. Pressing down a little, he rubbed against her center. Mary gasped and moved to meet him. Shifting on the bed he sucked hard on her other nipple, pulling at it with his lips, only to let it go with a soft _pop_.

"Mmm."

Matthew shivered at the almost purr-like sound coming from Mary in response to his teasing her nipples. Giving each a firm little tweak, he moved down. Mary was still gasping when he pushed her legs up and out. She cried out and trembled as his mouth and tongue touched her intimately. He hummed against her, knowing how much she liked it. She sighed, and he could hear the smile in it. With a firm grip on her legs, he flicked his tongue over her, then moved down to dip inside her before returning to the top. Mary whimpered, and he could feel her getting close.

"No!"

Matthew gently hushed her as she protested when he moved away. Still kneeling on the bed, he put her left foot down but kept her right leg pressed against her upper body. Holding her gaze, he brushed his thumb over her slick folds, causing a long whimper, followed by a gasp. Before she could recover, he slipped his finger inside. He slowly dragged it out, curling it slightly, rubbing against a soft spot inside that he had discovered was very sensitive.

"Oh God!"

With his thumb pressed against her, he kept easing his finger inside her, then slowly withdrawing, until she was trembling. Mary's eyes were closed, and she was gasping and moaning softly. A pink blush covered her neck and upper chest. Matthew almost felt overwhelmed by her beauty.

"I want you," he said in a hoarse, raspy voice that dripped with emotion.

"Yes!"

Mary's eyes opened when he pushed her legs up higher until he could rest them on his shoulders. In one firm push, he was inside her. She gasped and tossed her head back, grabbing fistfuls of the sheet. Matthew leaned forward, clenching his buttocks, forcing his release back.

"Mary," he gasped. "Look at me."

With what appeared to be great effort, she opened her eyes and met his piercing blue ones. Her dark eyes were almost black with passion. She grabbed his wrists, as if needing something to anchor herself to, and squeezed him inside her. Taking her cue, he withdrew, only to push back even deeper. She whimpered and fought to keep her eyes open. He set a fast pace, encouraged by her response and sounds.

"Oh God, oh God…"

"Mary!"

Matthew cried out her name as she let out a series of sharp yells as they tumbled into the abyss together. She squeezed him so hard, the tightness intensifying his pleasure and extending his release. Finally he collapsed down on top of her before rolling them over.

**_To Be Continued…_**


	9. Parisian Adventures

**Hi there! **

**Thank you for still reading and showing support for this story. Life has been busy lately. I'm so sorry about the delay in posting. Hopefully it will prove itself worthy of the wait.**

_**Lady Sybil**_**… there have been some inquiries/requests for a bit of Sybil/Branson romance. Since Lady Sybil is only fifteen at the time when this story takes place, it's limited how much of that will actually happen. There is a Sybil/Branson scene in this chapter. Just a little sweet moment between them, and an interesting conversation that stirs some emotions in Sybil.**

_**Thomas**_** is still gallivanting around in underground Paris enjoying himself quite a lot!**

**I'm still struggling with responding to comments vs. writing. I chose writing since I want to keep up with posting. The next chapter is about 85% done, and so is the one after that. I only have a few scenes left to fill in. **

**Please don't hesitate to share your comments.**

**I LOVE hearing from you!**

**What did you like, what confused you, what would you like to see more of, what touched you deeply… or just that you still enjoy the story.**

**. . .**

**. . .**

**Chapter 9 – Parisian Adventures**

Mary watched Matthew intently from where she sat across from him in a cozy little café in Saint-Germain-Des-Prés. He appeared to be fascinated with the other patrons and the scene playing out around them. Waiters in long aprons rushed hot beverages and tasty treats on large trays, held high in the air, to eagerly waiting guests. Mary held her breath as she anticipated a collision, but the waiters danced out of each others' way with practiced ease. She smiled to herself, imagining Thomas and William doing the same.

Returning her gaze to her handsome husband, she felt a tingle in her stomach as Matthew licked a flake of pastry off his lip. His fingers closed around his napkin, dabbing it against his mouth. As she watched his hands, Mary could not help but relive some of the sensations those hands had evoked in her body only hours earlier.

Frowning a little at these feelings that were familiar and strange at the same time, she picked up her _café au lait_ and sipped it. It had been a pleasant surprise to discover the favored hot beverage of the french, so very different from the bitter, dark brew her mother was so fond of. Taking yet another sip of her sweetened, smooth coffee, Mary pondered her feelings and what to do with them. She froze when she found Matthew looking intently at her.

"What's the matter, darling?"

"I don't know," he answered, smiling amusedly at her. "You were looking at me, almost the same way you did this morning." At the sharp intake of air from Mary, Matthew's eyes widened a little. "You were!" The words came out as a surprised whisper.

"What if I was?" Mary countered. "You're my husband, and we're on our honeymoon."

Matthew leaned across the table and lowered his voice to the faintest whisper. "You're aroused, darling."

"Matthew!" she hissed. "People can hear you."

"Hardly." He leaned back again and smiled, looking more than a little smug.

Mary started to pick up her cup again, but changed her mind. She glared at Matthew and huffed delicately. Confused with the change in her, he took her hand, stroking her fingers. She looked down at their naked hands and, with newfound courage, she turned her hand over, inviting him to touch her palm.

"What rights do I have?" she whispered.

"I don't understand."

"If…" she bit her lip and her cheeks flushed a little. "If what you said is true… can I… ask you?"

It took him a moment to understand her cryptic words, but when he did, he nodded enthusiastically. "Dear God, yes! Of course you can, darling." His fingers tightened around hers. "You have every right to say yes or no, and to state your desire."

"Then perhaps, Mr. Crawley, I think that you should take me back to the hotel," she said in a slightly deeper, huskier voice. "Your wife most definitely desires you."

Matthew all but jumped to his feet. Putting money on the table, he took Mary's hand, tucking it under his arm as the two hurried back to the hotel.

~ O ~

"That seat is taken."

Anna jumped at the harsh words tossed her way in thick, parisian French. She quickly stepped aside, clutching her purse closer.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

The woman's face hardened, and she reminded Anna instantly of Miss O'Brien.

"Foreigners. No manners at all," she muttered and took her seat, opening the magazine she had been carrying, ignoring Anna completely.

Anna blushed in shame at having been put in her place so rudely by this french woman. She yelped and jumped when a hand closed around her arm. Turning her head to face the culprit, she came face to face with a grinning woman with wild, deep-red curls.

"Pay no attention to her," she said cheerfully. "Come."

Anna nodded and silently followed the woman who, in Anna's quick judgment, appeared to be perhaps a few years older than her. She took a seat next to her and smiled a little tentatively.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it." The woman laughed again, her brown eyes filled with mirth. "That old bat is just unhappy with life in general." She held out her hand to Anna who did not hesitate to take it. "Yvette Michaud."

"Very nice to meet you, Mlle. Michaud. Anna Smith."

"Oh, how lovely." Yvette's eyes widened. "Anna Smith."

Anna giggled. No one had ever thought her name particularly lovely. It was, after all, a fairly common name.

"Thank you."

"And who do you work for, Anna Smith?" Yvette held up her hand and gave Anna a sharp look that held a teasing twinkle. "And before you answer, please call me Yvette."

Anna giggled and nodded. "I'm lady's maid to Lady Mary Crawley."

Yvette frowned. "I don't think I've heard of her."

"She doesn't live in Paris," Anna explained quickly. "She's the eldest daughter of the Earl of Grantham. They have a grand estate in Yorkshire, and a house in London."

"Yorkshire," Yvette whispered, as if tasting the word on her tongue, and smiled wistfully. "I'm sure it's not very special to you, but to me it sounds wonderful. Like something out of a novel."

"Downton kind of is."

"Downton?"

"Downton Abbey. It's the home of Lord and Lady Grantham."

"Oh! And this is where you work?"

Anna nodded. "Of course now, when Lady Mary is on her honeymoon, I'm here."

"Ooh la la! An English lady on her honeymoon. Have they behaved very scandalously?"

Anna's eyes widened, and she laughed a little nervously. "They do love each other," she answered vaguely. "I'm sorry, but I don't really care to speak about Lady Mary like that. She's been so kind to me, and she's really lovely."

Yvette smiled, her face a bit more serious now. "I was merely joking. Don't pay any attention to me."

"And who do you work for?"

Yvette smirked and leaned closer. "The reason that that woman stared daggers at me is because of my mistress. She's a famous singer and actress."

Anna gasped. "Is she really?"

Yvette nodded. "She's a very good mistress. She pays well, and she's kind enough. The thing is, she's not a noblewoman, and she's not married to the man she entertains."

"I see." Anna bit her lip, unsure how to respond.

"It doesn't matter to me." Yvette shrugged and wiggled her eyebrows. "It's not me he's bedding, and he's a nice fellow really."

Anna's eyes widened at Yvette's frank words, and she covered her mouth as she giggled nervously.

"Mes dames, silence s'il vous plaît!"

The woman who Anna had come to know as Mme. Balfour stood in front of the group, clapping her hands to get everyone's attention. Silence fell in the room as she started talking. Soon Anna's head was swimming with new knowledge about fabric and dress cuts – and she loved every minute of it!

~ O ~

Tom Branson silently slipped inside the library at Downton, more than a little excited at the opportunity to browse the vast collection belonging to his employer. Feeling almost a little silly, he moved towards the first row of books his eyes fell on. Tracing the spines with his finger, he read the titles, now and then smiling as he recognized a particularly nice one. Finding one that peaked his interest, he started to slip it out from its place on the shelf. He almost dropped it when there was a gasp and a giggle behind him. Clutching the book in his hand, he twirled around, instantly spotting who had startled him.

"Lady Sybil! I'm so sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here."

"It's all right," she said cheerfully, smiling at him. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. I was reading a letter from my sister, and it made me laugh." Sybil held up the letter for him to see. "I know not many people believe it, but my oldest sister can be very funny."

"So Lady Mary is enjoying her time in France then, milady?" Branson felt Sybil's cheerful mood rub off on him, and he grinned widely at her.

"She is!" Sybil jumped up and walked over to him. "Everyone in my family has been to Paris, so they don't find it that interesting." She made a face and huffed, a little annoyed.

"I suppose you've never been then, milady."

"Not yet." She grinned at him. "I can't wait to travel! Surely you must understand. You've, after all, left your home country to come here."

"Aye, so I have, milady. It's interesting, and I think it's important if you really want to understand people other than your own."

"I agree!"

Sybil could not believe how this man, who she had only exchanged a few words with since he started working for her father, could understand her so completely. She looked down at the book in his hand and reached for it. Their fingers brushed against each other, and she gasped, her eyes seeking his.

"His lordship said that I could borrow a book, if I wanted to."

"Of course," Sybil said quickly. "I was merely curious about your choice."

"Just an old friend, I'm afraid." He held up the book for her to see.

"HG Wells, _The War of the Worlds_." Sybil nodded in recognition. "I've read it. Papa was not too pleased with me when he found out."

"It's based on how the British invade other countries and impose their ways on the existing culture, so I can see why."

"Are you really as interested in politics as you claim?"

Sybil strayed over to the bookcase, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"If you refer to the cause of gaining independence for Ireland, then yes I am. Very much so, milady."

"I envy you." She sighed heavily.

"Why is that?" Branson wanted to approach her, but thought it inappropriate, so he remained in place.

"To have a cause, a purpose."

"Surely you do, milady."

Sybil huffed and rolled her eyes. "To get married, and everything that entails." She faced him, her hands on her hips. "I want to do something important with my life – make a difference. I want _excitement_!"

Tom chuckled and shook his head. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, milady, but being a rebel is not always exciting. Most of the time it's tedious, cold, and frustrating."

"Cold?" Sybil frowned in confusion.

"Being outside at night. Attending meetings, and standing for hours in the rain and stuff."

"I see." She sauntered back to him, her hands clasped behind her back. "It still sounds tremendously exciting."

She stopped in front of him, her blue eyes searching his. Tom felt a little lightheaded as he was again surrounded by the soft, flowery scent of her. He cleared his throat and smiled a little.

"Take my word for it, milady." He dipped his chin and grinned at her. "Now, if you will please excuse me, I must leave. His lordship asked for the motor to be brought around at nine." With a cheeky grin he stepped over to the ledger and quickly scribbled the book title and his name, recording his borrowing the book.

"Of course! Oh, Branson, I'm so sorry." Sybil flushed in embarrassment. "Here I am, going on and on about how boring my life is, and you're too polite to interrupt. Please, I don't want you to get in trouble because of me."

"Don't worry, Lady Sybil, it was a pleasure. Good day to you."

Sybil bit her lip and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet as she watched him leave. Tom Branson was most definitely an interesting person. With a little skip of excitement, Sybil left the library, hurrying upstairs to ponder her feelings for the dashing new chauffeur.

~ O ~

Thomas let out a sigh of relief once the car with Lady Mary and Matthew Crawley pulled out from the hotel, headed for the Paris Opera. The night before, he had waited up until the couple returned from their event at the embassy. It was past one in the morning once he'd said his goodnight. Glancing at the state of Mr. Crawley's coat, he had groaned, resigned to the fact that he would not be going out that night.

Tonight was a different story. Matthew had pulled Thomas aside before getting into the car to tell him that he did not need to wait up for them because they were meeting Mr. Napier and a friend of his for drinks after the opera. Thomas had thanked Matthew, and, after agreeing on a time to wake him the next morning, Thomas closed the car door and watched the car pulled out.

~ O ~

Thomas sauntered into the crowed club with his hands in his pockets, feeling much more confident than when he first set foot in the place two nights ago.

"Thomas!"

He raised his hand in greeting to Armand, shouting his name. He grinned and leaned down, kissing him before taking a seat. Thomas blushed a little at the teasing laughter and comments.

"Did you miss me?" he asked Armand.

"Mais oui, mon cher." Armand ran his hand over Thomas' lapel, and then slipped inside, caressing his warm chest.

"What did I miss?"

"Not much. Only Armand moping."

Armand made a face at Robert, who laughed at the two of them. Before anyone could tease them any further, Thomas rose, holding out his hand to Armand.

"Dance with me?"

"I'd be delighted to."

Thomas closed his eyes and sighed. Armand was in his arms, their cheeks pressed together as they swayed to the slow song. He frowned when he suddenly heard someone speaking English nearby. Opening his eyes he searched for the man who had just spoken, but no one around him said anything. He sighed, assuming that he had imagined it.

"Is something the matter?" Armand mumbled and brushed his lips over Thomas' cheek.

"Not at all. I just thought I heard something."

"Heard what?" Armand pulled back to look Thomas in the eyes.

"English. I thought I heard someone speaking English."

Armand laughed and nodded. "And why not? We're speaking English, non?"

Thomas grinned and nodded. "Cheeky bastard."

Armand laughed and twirled Thomas around. The two continued dancing until the music changed, and Armand escorted Thomas back to their table. Champagne was waiting for them, and their little group was laughing and having a grand time. At one point, Thomas thought he heard that same voice again and looked up. His eyes locked for a moment with a handsome blonde man. He was impeccably dressed, and Thomas knew instantly that he was looking at an Englishman, and a noble one at that. The man grinned before turning to follow his friends as they left.

~ O ~

"Crawley, over here!"

Matthew chuckled and steered Mary in the direction of Evelyn Napier. The four men seated at the table rose to greet them. Introductions were made, and once Mary took her seat, the gentlemen joined her.

"Lady Mary, Mr. Napier has spoken highly of you, but he failed in describing how beautiful you are."

Mary laughed a little nervously as she met the foreigner's sparkling dark eyes.

"Mr. Pamuk, you're coming dangerously close to flirting with a married woman."

Kemal Pamuk laughed and let go of her hand. He raised his glass to her, only to realize that she lacked a drink. Flagging down a waiter, he requested two more glasses and another bottle of champagne.

"Mr. Napier tells me that you are a diplomat, Mr. Pamuk." Matthew smiled at the man sitting on the other side of Mary, feeling a need to engage the man in conversation before he got too cozy with his wife.

"I suppose I am, though my work here in Paris is really not that important. My father works for the Sultan, and I'm merely doing him a favor."

"An important one, it sounds like."

"Politics is all a game, Mr. Crawley," Pamuk said with a devilish grin. "We move our pawns around, trying to get the upper hand on the opponent. Right now, I suppose I'm in the lead, but anything could happen, instantly forcing me back to the drawing board to form a new strategy."

"Fascinating!" Evelyn Napier exclaimed, his eyes filled with excitement. "Ah, here we are."

The arrival of the waiter allowed for the champagne to flow again, and Mary was promptly handed a glass of the pale, bubbly beverage. With cheers and laughter, they toasted each other.

~ O ~

Thomas let out a perfect smoke ring, watching it float through the air before dissolving. Armand was resting in his arms, his head nestled comfortably on Thomas' chest, and their fingers entwined on his stomach. The rumpled sheets bunched up at the foot of the bed spoke to the intensity of their previous encounter. As nervous as Thomas had been two nights ago about getting naked in front of another person, he was quite at ease lying sprawled in all his glory on the bed.

"I want to take you to the sea."

"Why?"

"Because you will look stunning in the outfits I will buy for you there." Armand laughed and kissed Thomas' chest. "Your body, tanned to a golden hue, making you look like a Greek God."

"I'm going back to England," Thomas muttered.

"Stay, mon chèr." Armand grinned up at him. "Stay forever."

"And what would I do in Paris?" Thomas huffed.

"You would be my pretty boy, and I would take you everywhere."

Thomas laughed and nodded. "You would, hm?"

"It's only been a few days, Thomas, but I think I am falling in love with you."

Thomas extinguished his cigarette and rolled the grinning Frenchman over.

"How delightful," he mumbled and kissed him.

Thomas moved his hands over Armand's slender body, squeezing, caressing, teasing him until his french lover was moaning and gasping. Avoiding reciprocating Armand's declaration of love, Thomas focused instead on distracting his lover in the most delicious way.

~ O ~

"You are stunning, Lady Mary."

Kemal Pamuk traced his fingers down her arm as he leaned closer to whisper in her ear. Matthew Crawley had stepped over to the bar with one of Napier's friends to get cigars. Deciding to use the opportunity to test the waters with Mary, Pamuk turned on all his charm.

"Mr. Pamuk, please." Mary moved in her seat, trying to distance herself a little from him.

"I have a room at your hotel. Once your husband falls asleep tonight, will you not come to me?"

Mary's eyes widened. "I am a married woman!" she hissed. "I don't know what I might have done, or said, to give you the impression that I'm not madly in love with my husband, but take my word for it – I am! I will forgive you for your indiscretion, if you promise never to bring it up again. I don't dare to think of what my husband would do, should he learn about your proposition."

He grinned. "Passionate! How delightful. I can only imagine what a tigress you are in bed."

Mary looked over at the bar, but the room was too crowded for her to make out Matthew. Napier was absolutely no help at all. He had already had more than enough and was currently giggling quite loudly, deeply engaged in a conversation with his own shadow.

"Mr. Pamuk, I ask you again not speak to me like that. It makes me uncomfortable."

"I can tell that you've never been unfaithful before," he whispered, his warm breath ghosting over her neck, making her shiver. "You blush almost like a virgin. I must say that as delightful it is to pluck a budding rose, a married woman, just like a blooming rose, has her special charm. She knows what to expect, and she is usually much more passionate."

Mary knew her face was flushed. His words did have an effect on her, though not the one he expected. She suddenly felt a flush of heat and intense desire to be alone with her husband.

"Perhaps you should seek out such a woman then, Mr. Pamuk." She glared at him, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. "Mr. Pamuk!" Mary gasped, her eyes wide in shock.

"Kemal!" Napier roared with laughter. "You're such a scoundrel. Leave Lady Mary alone. She's the daughter of my mother's good friend, Lady Grantham. Lady Mary Crawley, as I've told you before, is a true lady, and I fear…" At this point Napier made a sad face. "… terribly, _desperately_, madly…" he took a deep breath. "… in love with her husband…" He waved over in the general direction of where Matthew was, almost hitting a waiter in the process. "Mr. Matthew Crawley." Pleased with his statement, he picked up his glass. "Cheers!"

"Mr. Napier," Mary warned. "You're not helping the situation. Will you please lower your voice?"

"Dance with me."

Before Mary could decline the offer, she was on her feet and dragged onto the dance floor by Kemal Pamuk.

~ O ~

Thomas looked around the busy nightclub, searching for any sign of the man he had spotted the week before. As had been the case every night, there was no trace of the dashing Englishman.

"I'm bored," Armand whined. "You're ignoring me, Thomas."

"Well, you're being annoying, so there." Thomas put his cigarette out with a bit more force than necessary.

"Mon chèr, don't be like that." Armand put his arm around Thomas, pulling him closer.

"I'm leaving." Thomas eased out of Armand's grip and got up.

"Why?" Armand jumped up, arms thrown out wide. "Thomas?"

"It's been fun, Armand, but I don't think this is going to work."

Armand just gaped at Thomas' words. "_C'est finis_? It's over?"

"What did you expect? That I would move in and marry you?"

By the look on Armand's face, it appeared that it was fairly close to the truth.

"Please, Thomas, I love you."

"Don't make a scene," Thomas hissed.

Armand threw his hands in the air and stormed out. Bumping into Serge, he did not bother to even stop and apologize. Serge looked up and met Thomas' eyes. His jaw tightened, and he stalked over.

"What happened?"

"Nothing."

"That did not look like nothing to me!"

"He's mad because I'm leaving! What am I supposed to do? Make it all go away? I can't stay here."

Serge sank down in a chair by their table and gestured for Thomas to have a seat. Ordering them some drinks, the two continued to talk.

~ O ~

The dance floor was crowded, forcing Mary even closer to Kemal Pamuk as he swept her around the room. She tried to wiggle out of his tight grip, which only accomplished her accidentally rubbing against his front, something that he took great delight in. He grinned at her, showing off a row of perfect white teeth.

"My darling, so eager."

"You know that's not why," she hissed.

"No need to be shy about it, Lady Mary," he whispered against her ear. "I like it when a woman takes control, as long as she yields in the end."

"Mr. Pamuk!"

He just laughed and spun her around the room again. At least, Mary thought for a fleeting moment, they were still in the room, and he had not tried to steal her away. Though perhaps that was not his intent? Then it slowly dawned on her – he wanted her to come to him!

"Excuse me."

Mary smiled at Matthew, delighted that he had finally found them. Pamuk let out a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes before turning his head to face Matthew.

"Mr. Crawley, I have been entertaining your wife while you were busy amusing yourself at the bar. The girls there are quite beautiful, so I can see why you lingered longer than necessary."

Matthew frowned, his face taking on an unhappy look. "What girls?"

"What girls?" Pamuk snickered. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "I understand. I would not want my wife to learn of it either."

"This conversation ends here," Matthew said curtly, and held out his hand to Mary. "I would very much like to dance with my wife now, Mr. Pamuk."

"Certainly." Pamuk let go of Mary, but not before raising her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss against the back of it. "Until later, Lady Mary."

Matthew glared after the man as Pamuk sauntered back to their table. "What was that about?"

"He thinks that I would be open to a proposition of an intimate kind."

"What?!" Matthew stared at her, his mouth open in shock. "I'll strangle him. The audacity." He was fuming with anger. "I'll kill him, Mary. I swear to you, I'll kill him."

Mary gently touched his cheek. "You will do no such thing, because there's no reason to. I don't want any other man than you. And how could I have you if you were in prison for murder?"

Matthew chuckled, but his anger still simmered. "I suppose you're right."

"Of course I am." She smiled sweetly at him. "Now, please dance with me. People are starting to stare at us."

He snapped out of his murderous thoughts and held out his arms to her. She eagerly stepped closer and allowed him to pull her against him as he led her through the waltz.

~ O ~

Thomas leaned back against the sofa and blew out some smoke. As it dissolved into the air, he found himself gazing at the handsome stranger again.

"Monsieur. Enchanté."

Thomas smiled and nodded. "I'm afraid that my French is a bit rusty. Do you, by any chance, speak English?"

"I thought there was something familiar about you," the man said, in perfect King's English.

"My dashing looks?" Thomas said with a little smirk.

"Naturally. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

"Thomas Barrow, at your service."

The man dipped his chin a little, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "I truly am delighted to meet you, Thomas Barrow. Please call me Edwyn."

"Somehow I don't think that is the proper way to address you, _Edwyn_." Thomas grinned at the man.

"Perhaps, but then we are in Paris, and everyone should be allowed a secret identity in this town."

"If you say so."

"And just so you know, Mr. Barrow, Edwyn _is_ my real name. I just happen to have a few other ones to go along with it. Not that any of them are important right now."

"I'm pleased to hear that, Edwyn, and please, call me Thomas."

~ O ~

The first thing Matthew noticed as he woke up the next morning was that Mary's warm, silky buttocks were pressed against his front. He smiled and moved a little, choking back a groan as his morning arousal increased tenfold. Mary hummed and moved closer again. A quick glance at her face confirmed that she was indeed still sleeping. Placing his palm on her stomach, he held her in a gentle, but close, embrace while slowly rubbing against her. A tiny whimper escaped from between her lips, and Matthew's grin instantly grew wider. Sliding his hand higher, he stroked her breast, teasing the nipple. A shiver went through Mary, and she shifted a little in her sleep, her right leg moving forward.

Matthew kept caressing her front and side, then stroked down her leg and up the back of her thigh. He could feel the heat from her core, even before touching her. The instant his fingers reached her intimate place, he felt how ready his touching had made her. Setting a slow, but steady, rhythm, he pleasured her from behind, his fingers sliding through her slick heat, teasing her little spot, then very gently pushed a finger inside her, only to start all over again a moment later.

"Oh God!"

Mary gasped as she finally woke up from Matthew's touching. He was doing something incredible with his fingers and she trembled as her brain fought to catch up with the level of arousal.

"Good morning, darling."

Matthew kissed her shoulder, not missing a beat as he kept stroking her. When she tried to turn around, he gently pushed her down on her stomach. Kneeling between her legs he kept stroking her. Mary's buttocks shot up in the air as he intensified his efforts. Matthew grinned at the sight, and his manhood instantly responded. An idea surfaced, and when she pushed up next, he slipped a pillow under her, keeping her at the slightly higher angle.

"Matthew?" Mary's eyes widened and she froze for a moment. She felt utterly exposed with her derriere in the air like this.

"Yes, my darling?"

"What are you doing?"

"Making love to my wife," he drawled.

Mary rolled her eyes and he chuckled. Slipping two fingers inside her, made her close her eyes tightly as she gasped at the intensity of the touch.

"Please…"

"I don't know…" he drew out the words, teasing her a little more. "Perhaps you're not ready yet."

"I'm ready!" The words were almost growled back at him.

Withdrawing his fingers, he moved so he was hovering over her. Guiding himself into place, he entered her firmly, causing them both to gasp. Leaning over her, holding himself up so he would not crush her, he set a fast pace. He could tell that she needed it, and he was too far gone to be able to handle anything slower. Rolling his hips and pushing against her, he aimed to bring on her release. To his delight, Mary seemed to be pushing up against him, apparently egging him on. She was clutching at the bed sheets, gasping and whimpering. Leaning on his left hand, he reached for her hair, running his fingers through it, before moving it away so he could stroke her back.

"Let go," he gasped.

"I can't." She whimpered and shook under him.

"Yes you can. Do it, Mary. Let me watch you spend."

His words, delivered with a surprising assertiveness, went straight to Mary's core and she cried out as her body clamped down around him. Matthew grunted and pushed harder against her until he spilled inside her a moment later. He gasped and hung his head, his body covered in a fine layer of perspiration. When he felt Mary relax around him, he slowly withdrew. She mewled and shivered, still incredibly sensitive from their coupling. He stroked her buttocks in a comforting caress before stretching out next to her.

Face to face now, they smiled at each other. He smoothed her hair away from her face and kissed her softly.

"That was wonderful, darling."

"It felt different," she whispered, her cheeks flushing a little.

"What did?"

"When you touched me from behind. I enjoyed it quite a lot."

"I'm glad to hear it."

~ O ~

Having awakened to drizzling rain, they had agreed that today was not a good day for sightseeing. After the late night with Evelyn Napier and his friends, it was almost a relief to just relax in their room.

When Matthew rejoined Mary after his bath and getting dressed, it was to find her curled up close to the fireplace, reading. He had noticed her with her nose in the same book the day before and had meant to ask her about it, but it had slipped his mind. He blushed at the thought of exactly what it was that had him so distracted.

"What are you reading, darling? You seem very captivated by it."

"I am," Mary said excitedly. She held up the book for him to see. "Sybil gave it to me as a travel gift."

"_The Phantom of the Opera_," Matthew read. He frowned. "It sounds familiar, but I can't say that I've read it."

"It's a fascinating story, taking place at the Paris Opera."

"How appropriate." He chuckled and sat down next to her, pulling her feet onto his lap.

"Isn't it?" She sighed and squirmed to get comfortable, rubbing her foot against his thigh. "This is lovely. I'm so glad that we decided to stay in today."

He nodded and watched her dive back into her story again, soon completely immersed in the intriguing tale. He kept stroking her feet, delighting in sharing a relaxed, yet intimate moment with her.

_**To Be Continued**_**…**

. . .

**A/N:** Edwyn: meaning, _rich friend_

. . .

**A/N:** I feel as if Mary is still a bit innocent, and struggling with embracing being a married woman. Victorian ladies were not supposed to be interested in sex, and be submissive to their husbands. Having grown up in that age, I wanted to show her struggle to break out of that kind of thinking and become Matthew's equal in the bedroom as well as everything else.

Kemal Pamuk and Evelyn Napier still exist in this universe. They might or might not show up again in the future. Rest assured, Kemal Pamuk will not end up dead in Lady Mary's bed!

Thomas' new friend (_have you guessed who he is yet_?) could also possibly return… who knows (:

Anna also made a new friend who will show her the delights of Paris (though in a different way than Thomas' experience!) There might… or might not be… a _garter_ involved!

**Upcoming:**

In the next chapter the Parisian adventure draws to an end and the Crawley party is getting ready to head off to Versailles for the second part of the honeymoon. Will you be joining me on this adventure? I can assure you that Matthew, in particular, has some delightful (naughty?) things in mind for their stay there…


	10. Farewell to Paris

_Thank you for your lovely reviews and interest in this story. I love hearing from you. It's great to know that you're still with me on this journey, despite not being able to post as often as I initially intended. Life and illness has prevented it, I'm afraid. Hopefully it will be possible to get a new chapter posted every week to ten days, but no promises. Encouragement and revews certainly help in the writing process! :)_

_For those of you who have asked about my other stories "__the Rightful Heir__" and "__When in Rome__" I'd like to offer a bit of an update…_

**The Rightful Heir** – _the next chapter is done and will be reviewed sometimes soon. Keep your eyes open for an update soon. _

**When in Rome** – _I wrote the final chapter, and sent it off to be proofed. Then I changed my mind and now I'm revising it. There will be a very M-rated epilogue-ish chapter to this story (train + Lady Charlotte + flustered Matthew + and…) That's all I'm saying! LOL_

_Anyway, enough with the gabbing. Here's chapter 10. We're still in Paris, but our honeymooners and their trusted travel companions, Anna & Thomas, are about to say farewell to Paris for the second part of their honeymoon._

_Get your tea/champagne ready and get comfortable – here we go!_

.

**Chapter 10: Farewell to Paris**

Their Paris stay passed quickly for Mary and Matthew. They delighted in decadent late mornings, filled with new discoveries that were usually followed by breakfast in their room. Anna and Thomas would then ensure that they were both presentable again to the outside world. Having discovered the charm of the French cafes, Matthew eagerly talked Mary into trying a new one for their midday meal each day. Delighting in the anonymity that those establishments offered, Mary was quick to agree.

Once they eventually returned to the hotel, usually late in the afternoon, Anna and Thomas would again be there to get them ready for their evening engagements.

"I must say that I look forward to escaping Paris for the countryside," Matthew admitted one morning towards the end of their stay.

"And why is that, darling?"

Mary stretched, reminding Matthew of a happy cat, and rolled over on her stomach, grinning up at him.

"We've been so busy here, having events almost every night. I look forward to it being just you and me, without any obligations. That's all."

"Mmm."

Mary inched closer and pulled the sheet down lower, exposing his body more. She placed a series of kisses across his stomach, flicking her tongue in his navel.

"Mary!" Matthew chuckled and jumped as her touch tickled.

"Oh, hush," she muttered, her lips still ghosting over him.

"You know, in the old days, the French would engage in _amour en plein air_." He wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at her.

"Matthew Crawley, are you telling me that the real reason you want to escape Paris is so you can engage in indecent behavior with me behind some bushes?"

Matthew laughed at her shocked exclamation and pulled her up so she was resting on top of him. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he held her close.

"No, my darling, I was thinking more along the lines of against an old oak tree, or in the soft grass next to a little stream."

"As if I would ever…"

Mary shrieked as he grabbed her and rolled her over. It did not take him long to have her on the edge.

"So you would never let me do this to you, with only the birds and the sky as our witnesses?"

"Matthew, please…"

One last stroke of his tongue had her trembling and she arched up against him, curling her legs around his body as they came together.

~ O ~

Yvette linked her arm with Anna's as they stepped outside Mme Balfour's. With a wide smile on her face, she tugged at Anna's arm.

"Come."

"Where are we going?" Anna frowned as Yvette steered her towards the nearest Metro station.

"We are going to buy hats!"

Anna giggled and shook her head. "I can't afford a new hat. I told you already."

"Mais oui!" Yvette leaned closer, lowering her voice. "I know a place."

"Alright…"

Anna felt Yvette's giddiness rub off, and she almost skipped next to her as the two hurried towards the train. At first, the Parisian Metro had scared Anna half to death, but with Yvette's guidance and assertiveness, she was now quite comfortable with the trains and certainly appreciated the time it saved her moving around the city.

As they, a little while later, stepped out on a busy street, Anna eagerly looked around. She could tell that they were in a garment district. Almost every other window showcased dresses or hats, fancy lace, or various accessories. She stopped and gaped at a window that held only various types of gloves. Yvette tugged at her arm, chuckling at the look of amazement on Anna's face.

"We can come back if you want to get some gloves too."

"Oh, I couldn't really." Anna shot her friend a quick smile. "But it's fun to look."

Turning the corner onto a quiet side street, Yvette pushed open the door to a small shop. Anna looked around, and her eyes widened in awe at the displays.

"Yvette," she whispered. "I can't afford this."

Yvette made a sweeping gesture around the small room. "All of this has been discarded by some spoiled woman or another."

Anna frowned. "I don't understand."

"Yvette!"

"Salut, Marie-Claire."

Anna smiled as the two exchanged kisses on the cheeks in greeting. The conversation that followed was fired off in such fast French that Anna gave up on trying to understand it. When Yvette smiled at her a moment later, and she stepped closer.

"Anna, this is my dear friend, Marie-Claire. Her mother owns this store."

"Enchante, Mademoiselle."

"Very nice to meet you." Anna made an apologetic face. "Your shop is lovely, but I fear that Yvette has misled you, if she thinks that I can afford to buy anything."

Ignoring Anna's protest, Marie-Claire grabbed her by the wrist and pulled Anna over to the hat display. "Yvette says you'd like a new hat. Perhaps this one would be to your liking?"

"Yes, but…" Anna started to stutter her protest as her hat was removed and the suggested one placed on her head.

"C'est magnifique!" Yvette clapped her hands and laughed cheerfully.

Marie-Claire placed her hands on Anna's shoulders, meeting her eyes in the mirror. She smiled warmly at her. "Whatever you think it costs, it will be much less."

Anna nodded a little hesitantly. She turned her head, admiring the hat. It really was lovely.

"She'll take it."

"Yvette!" Anna's eyes widened in shock. "I don't even know how much it costs."

Marie-Claire told her, and Anna's eyes widened again. It was only a fraction of what she had guessed.

"How is that possible?" she whispered.

Marie-Claire carefully lifted the hat off Anna's head before beckoning for her to follow her. While gently placing the hat in a plain hatbox, she told Anna how her mother knew most of the well-known designers in Paris.

"She visits their showrooms several times per week. Whenever a lady discards something, _Maman_ offers them a deal and usually they accept. This hat, for example." She gently placed her hand on top of the box. "I don't know for sure, but it probably cost _Maman_ a third of what you paid me."

Anna's head was swimming with this incredible information. She looked up, grinning cheekily. "What else do you have that you think I might like?"

Yvette burst out laughing, holding on to Anna's shoulder, her eyes twinkling happily.

"Oh, Anna, you're a delight. Come let us be very naughty."

~ O ~

"Alors, now that we have sorted out your needs, cherie, let's see what we can find that will please your mistress."

Anna just nodded, still stunned at her recent purchases. She blushed as she pondered her argument with Yvette over one particular item.

"I still can't believe you made me buy a garter," she muttered. "I'll never use it, and even if I did, no one will ever see it."

"Never say never, Anna." Yvette winked at her. "It will be your very own naughty memory of Paris. Oui?"

~ O ~

Sybil made a little skip as the garage came into view. Noticing Branson coming out of the building she instantly straightened up. She was a young lady now, not a little girl, and young ladies did not skip.

As if sensing that he was no longer alone, Branson turned in her direction. He wiped his hands on a rag before running his fingers through his hair. His eyes instinctively searched for hers as Sybil came to a stop a few feet in front of him.

"Lady Sybil, it's a pleasure."

"Good morning, Branson." She smiled and leaned forward a little, peeking inside the garage. "Did I interrupt you?"

"Not at all, my lady. Can I do something for you?" He grabbed the rag again, cleaning his hands a bit more.

"Mama wants the motor this afternoon," she said quickly. Realizing that it sounded a little harsh, she smiled tentatively. "That is, we would like to go to Ripon after luncheon."

"Certainly, my lady. I will have the motor brought up right away."

"Oh, we're not leaving for a while yet." Sybil blushed and twisted a little nervously. "Did you finish the book yet?"

"Book?" He frowned, not following her.

"War of the Worlds?"

He chuckled and nodded. "Yes, thank you, I did."

"Good for you." She blushed prettily as she smiled at him. "I'm glad that Papa is not keeping you so busy that you don't have time for yourself."

"Oh no, my lady." Branson laughed and shook his head. "In fact, my lady, the busier he keeps me, the more opportunities I have to read."

"Oh?" Sybil frowned in confusion.

"While I'm waiting for his lordship, I have a chance to read in the car."

Sybil laughed and nodded. "Of course! How silly of me."

"Not at all, my lady. You couldn't have known."

"I know you work for my father, Branson, but you sound so free." Sybil let out a heavy sigh. "It's as if your soul is free."

"I suppose it is, my lady." He scuffed his shoe a little; suddenly nervous at how Sybil's demeanor had softened. She was standing very close now, and he could smell the faint flowery scent she was wearing.

"You know," she looked up at him, her eyes clear and very serious, "I know that women will have the vote soon, and some day women will truly be free."

"I agree." Tom shoved his hands in his pockets as his fingers started to itch to touch her. "I come from a family with strong women, and I respect them just as much as my brothers and uncles. I think it absolutely ridiculous to think that a woman is less than a man."

Sybil just stared at him. No one had ever spoken like that to her, as if she mattered, as if she was truly an adult. Taking a step closer she gently placed her hand on his arm.

"You truly are a rebel, Branson," she whispered. "Thank you."

"For what, my lady?" He stood absolutely still, trying not to think of her warm, glove-clad hand on his arm.

"For speaking to me like an equal."

"Always, my lady." He grinned a little cheekily. "Though you're certainly above me, Lady Sybil."

"Never!" She almost spat the word, and her hand on his arm tightened its grip a little. "I don't want you to ever speak like that again. I don't think of you like that."

"My apologies, my lady. It was just a joke, and a silly one at that."

"It wasn't funny, because there is truth in it," she said in a soft, sad voice. "Even if I don't think like that, others do." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with the fire from before. "Some day that will change too."

"Lady Sybil, you must be careful," he drawled. "You're starting to sound like a rebel."

Sybil giggled and removed her hand from his arm. "Branson!"

He watched her walk back to the house, turning once to wave back at him. He raised his hand to return the gesture. Once she disappeared out of sight, he ducked back inside the garage, determined to have the car spotless for when he picked up the Crawley ladies a few hours from now.

~ O ~

Mary was in an unusually good mood the next morning. She listened intently as Anna happily told her about the progress she had made in her course. The week of studying at Mme Balfour's had taught her so many things, and she appeared very eager to show Mary.

"How about when we leave for Versailles in two days, you can practice what you've learned? I shall look forward to something new each evening."

"Honestly, milady?" Anna's eyes were wide with excitement. "I'm sure you'll like it. I've worked really hard, and Mme Balfour says that I have talent."

"Of course you do! I could've told you that." Mary laughed and turned to face Anna. "I'm sure O'Brien will turn green with envy once she hears about it."

To Mary's surprise, Anna did not seem to find her comment funny.

"I don't want to cause any trouble, milady," she said in a hushed voice.

"Of course not. That's not what I meant. Perhaps that Mama will have you teach O'Brien."

"I'm not sure that would be right, milady. I'm not a lady's maid, not really. Miss O'Brien might take offence."

Mary made a face and rolled her eyes. She had never been enamored of her mother's maid, finding the woman unpleasant to say the least. Still, as much as she disliked O'Brien, Mary had to admit that the woman was absolutely loyal to her mother. And was that, perhaps, not the most important skill for a lady's maid to have?

"So today is your last class then?"

"Yes, milady. Some really fancy stuff."

Mary grinned at Anna's clear excitement. "I can't wait to hear about it."

"I'll tell you tonight. Promise." She smiled fondly at Mary. "Thank you ever so much, milady. It's been such a joy to be there. I've even made a few friends."

"I'm glad." Mary smiled. "Tell you what, you know that Mr. Crawley and I are not going out tonight, but dining here at the hotel. Why don't you ask your new friends if they would like to go out and celebrate?"

"Milady, are you certain?"

"Absolutely. I have every confidence in that my husband can help me out of my clothes before bed."

"Milady!" Anna's hand flew to her mouth as she let out a little giggle.

"Really, Anna? After all, we are on our honeymoon," Mary drawled, smiling teasingly at the maid.

"Of course, milady."

"Let's keep it between us, shall we? No need to let Mr. Crawley know that we're giggling like schoolgirls about him."

"Certainly, milady."

A knock on the door announced said Mr. Crawley's arrival, and Mary got up as Anna rushed to open the door.

"Hello, Anna. Is Lady Mary ready?"

"There you are, darling. I thought you might have forgotten about me and run off to do Paris on your own with some cancan girl for company."

"Certainly not!" Matthew rolled his eyes at her. "Paris will look dull indeed, without you by my side, cancan girl or not."

"I'm pleased to hear it. Shall we then?"

She took his offered arm, and the two left the room, talking in hushed voices and laughing together. Anna smiled as she watched them go before closing the room to tend to Mary's things. She had another hour before she had to leave, so she decided that getting a head start on the packing would not hurt.

~ O ~

Mary held on to her hat as she stopped on the second landing of the Eifel Tower, turning to face Matthew.

"Isn't this just marvelous, darling?"

"It certainly is," he gasped out as he tried to catch his breath. "I still think that we should've taken the lift and not the stairs."

Mary huffed and rolled her eyes. "Where's your sense of adventure, Matthew? This is so much more exciting."

"Your father will have a fit if he ever learns that I dragged you up the stairs instead of offering you a ride suitable for a lady."

"Well, it was my idea, so I suppose I'll have to save you."

With those parting words she set off again, Matthew sighing behind her, gazing up at the looming tower. There were an awful lot of steps left.

~ O ~

After a lovely dinner with lots of wine and laughter, several of the young women seconded Yvette's suggestion to go dancing. Anna was a little apprehensive as she was whisked off with the group of laughing French women.

The place was smoky and the music lively. Anna looked around in awe at the colorful clientele. Couples were dancing quite wildly on the dance floor and here and there waiters maneuvered the floor with drinks.

"What would you like?"

Anna turned at Yvette's question. "Just some lemonade, I think."

Yvette made a face. "You need to live a little, Anna. Have some wine."

Anna giggled nervously and nodded. "I suppose. It's my last night in Paris."

Yvette sighed, and her face fell. "I'll be sad to see you go. You've become a dear friend."

"I know." Anna smiled sadly. "Perhaps I'll be back some day."

"And maybe I'll visit England!" Yvette laughed, and Anna grinned in return.

The wine arrived, and glasses were poured. Their loud toasting and laughter drew some attention from a group of young men by the bar. A couple of them sauntered over and struck up a conversation. It appeared that Yvette knew a few of them, and, soon, they had joined their little party.

Anna smiled sweetly at the young man sitting next to her. He was very handsome, his dark eyes twinkling teasingly as he smiled at her. Her cheeks flushed a little at the undisguised admiration.

"Mademoiselle Smith, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Thank you, Monsieur."

"Please mademoiselle, call me Gerard."

Anna's cheeks turned deeper pink. "Oh, I couldn't."

He leaned closer, winking at her. "I'm sure it's not very hard to pronounce my name. Please give it a try."

"Gerard," she whispered.

He laughed and raised his glass to her. "I like how you say my name, Mademoiselle Anna."

"Thank you."

"How do you know Yvette?"

"We attended a course together." Anna sipped her wine, feeling a bit flushed at how close Gerard was sitting.

"You're also a lady's maid?"

She nodded. "I am."

He grinned and eyed her face and hair. "No wonder that you look so lovely."

Anna giggled as he twirled a loose strand of her hair around his finger. "Gerard, you're not behaving at all properly."

"This is Paris! No one cares about English propriety," he exclaimed, throwing his arms out wide.

Anna laughed, covering her mouth with her hand as Gerard continued to talk and gesture as he spoke about the gaiety of Paris. Their eyes met, and he held her gaze as he fell silent. Anna finally looked away, her face feeling warm again. She jumped when he took her hand, stroking her fingers.

"Would you like to dance, Anna?"

She nodded and silently followed him through the throng of people. He held her closer than anyone ever had before. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. Anna took comfort in the assertiveness he showed as he swept her around the floor. Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment when he brushed his cheek against hers.

The tune was followed by a slightly wilder one. Anna laughed and her cheeks turned pink as Gerard taught her this new, savage dance. Her natural gift for music and dancing made it easy for her to pick up on the steps and moves. The two danced and laughed together until Anna was so out of breath she had to lean against Gerard as she gasped for air. He chuckled and tugged her closer to his side.

"You're a lovely companion, Anna."

"Thank you. That was so much fun!" She beamed up at him.

Gerard laughed and leaned down to place a firm kiss on her lips. "The pleasure was all mine, I can assure you."

"Gerard!" Anna's eyes widened at the boldness of kissing her like that.

He just laughed and took her hand, pulling her along as they returned to the table. They sat down, a little closer than before. Gerard put his arm around Anna's shoulders and held her tightly against him. She blushed at the gesture and quickly reached for her glass when she caught Yvette winking at her.

~ O ~

"Anna?" Yvette leaned across Sylvie to grasp Anna's hand. Anna leaned closer to hear her better. "Gerard is nice, _oui_?"

Anna nodded and giggled, her cheeks flushing. "He's very forward."

"He's French, Anna," Yvette said and rolled her eyes. She glanced at the young man sitting next to Anna and lowered her voice a little. "I think he likes you."

Anna blushed and looked down. "I'm not as worldly as you, Yvette. I can't…"

Yvette gently squeezed Anna's hand. "Of course not. A kiss or two would not hurt you though, _ne ces't pas_?"

Anna bit her lip and nodded. "I suppose not."

"Live a little, Anna."

Anna laughed at Yvette's parting words and turned to Gerard again. He tugged her closer and nuzzled her cheek. She giggled and pushed at his chest. He whispered little nonsense in her ear and pulled her closer.

~ O ~

Gerard walked Anna back to the hotel through quiet, dark streets. She had been a little nervous at walking off alone with a man she had just met, but Yvette had assured her that Gerard could be trusted. Anna was so deep in thought that she almost stumbled when Gerard suddenly stopped.

"What is it?"

"Look." He smiled and gestured to their left.

Anna gasped at the view that had opened up as they cleared the building. The entire city was lit up in front of them, the Eifel Tower standing majestically in the center.

"Oh my God!" Her hand flew to her mouth in awe. "It's beautiful."

"Paris is a beautiful city, Anna. Just like a beautiful woman, she should be admired."

Anna looked up at him, yet again marveling at his soft brown eyes. He tugged her closer and she rested her hands on his chest.

"Gerard," she whispered, feeling a little flushed at the closeness.

"I want to make love to you until the sun comes up over Paris, Anna." He ran his thumb over her cheek as he leaned closer. "But somehow I don't see that happening."

Anna's eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her. Her head was spinning, and her stomach did little flips when his tongue stroked over her lips. She let out a soft whimper and he held her tighter.

When they eventually separated, she rested her forehead against his shoulder.

"I'm not that kind of girl, Gerard," she whispered. "I can't…"

"I know, ma chère." He gently touched her lips, shaking his head. "No need to explain." He grinned and kissed her again. "Please don't hold it against me that I desire you."

Feeling bold, Anna reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, tugging him down until she could kiss him. He picked her up and swung her around as they laughed together.

~ O ~

The morning of their departure for Versailles found the Crawley suite in a frenzy of activity. Thomas muttered a curse under his breath as a clumsy bellboy almost dropped one of the Crawleys' trunks.

"_Attention_!"

The boy just grinned and hurried to catch up to his friend.

"I wonder if we will see the Duke of Crowborough at Versailles," Mary mused as she met Matthew's eyes in the mirror. She touched her hair again to make sure that it was perfect. "He did say, that night at the embassy, that he would be staying at the Trianon Palace."

"I suppose." Matthew responded absentmindedly. Sighing in frustration as his outfit was bothering him more than usual; he turned to his travel valet. "Thomas, can you do something about this jacket for me? It's starting to drive me mad."

Thomas rushed over and pulled at the shoulders of Matthew's jacket, then walked around him to straighten the sleeves and the shirt.

"Better, Mr. Crawley?"

"Yes, thank you."

"We might even get an invitation to dine with him one evening." Mary turned in front of the mirror.

"I can't see why you make such big deal out of the man," Matthew muttered, not entirely certain that he liked how Mary seemed to be drawn to the duke. "I found him quite full of himself and tremendously rude."

"Because he's a duke, Matthew!" She laughed and turned away from the mirror, finally pleased with her appearance. "His friendship might prove itself useful in the future."

Matthew just nodded and quickly stepped out of the way as the two bellboys came through with the large trunk holding Mary's dresses. Thomas again reprimanded them, to which Matthew just shook his head in amusement, since the two did not seem to be bothered the slightest bit by Thomas' annoyance.

"If it's all right with you, Mr. Crawley, I'll go downstairs to make sure that those two noodles don't forget loading something."

"Yes, thank you, Thomas. That's an excellent idea. Lady Mary and I will be down in just a moment."

~ O ~

After a last kiss in the sanctuary of their Parisian room, Matthew escorted Mary downstairs to the car that would be taking them to Versailles. Anna and Thomas were patiently waiting right outside the hotel entrance, having supervised the packing of all their belongings.

"Are we all set, Thomas?"

"Yes, Mr. Crawley. Everything is in order."

"Wonderful!"

Matthew helped Mary into the car, and then Anna. Thomas closed the door behind him as Matthew joined the two women before sliding in next to the driver. Matthew nodded to Anna, and she gently tapped on the glass, signaling for the driver to take off.

Mary smiled at the maid as the car pulled out into the busy midday Paris traffic. Settling in for the drive, she leaned back, watching the fascinating sights pass by, her hand held safely in Matthew's.

_**To be Continued…**_


	11. Versailles

**Chapter 9 – Versailles**

Anna sighed in relief as she kicked off her shoes in her small room at Trianon Palace Hotel. Lady Mary had dismissed her before going down to dinner. As tired as Anna was, she had still been surprised by Mary's generous act.

"Get some rest, Anna," she had said in a gentle voice that almost had Anna in tears. Lady Mary could be very sweet at times.

Making quick work with her clothes, Anna slipped into her nightgown. She gazed out the little window for a moment while braiding her hair, noting how the moon seemed to bathe the gardens in an almost mythical light. Here and there, torches were lit to guide any guests that might be out for a moonlight stroll. Anna sighed, wondering if that was what Lady Mary had in mind when she had been so quick to dismiss her earlier. Too tired to really ponder the issue for long, Anna slipped into bed, and her head sank down onto the soft pillow. Within minutes she was asleep, dreaming about fairies and other mythical creatures playing under the moon, hidden from human eyes by eerie fog.

~ O ~

Mary had been disappointed to learn that the Duke was, in fact, not dining at the hotel that evening, having been invited to dine as the honored guest of the owner of a nearby French chateau. Matthew seemed to be delighted to have Mary all to himself and entertained her with all sorts of little tales and suggestions for excursions.

"Matthew," she said, smiling up at him as he escorted her out of the dining room, "how about a little walk in the garden before bed?"

"What an excellent idea!" He beamed at her and quickly steered her in the direction of the nearest exit.

Mary let out a tiny gasp at the eerie beauty of the moonlit formal garden. The two slowly strolled down the graveled pathway away from the hotel. Crickets were chirping in the nearby bushes, and somewhere in the distance a dog was barking. But otherwise, the warm night was quiet. Glancing over his shoulder, Matthew took in the sight of the lit-up hotel.

"It's almost as impressive as Downton at night."

Mary huffed, and her brows knitted together. "Hardly, but it is a nice hotel."

"Of course nothing can compare to your precious Downton," he teased her and nuzzled her ear.

"Matthew! What if someone sees us?"

He chuckled as she tried to push him away. "No one will, especially if you are quiet."

"Matthew Crawley! Did you just tell me to be quiet?" Mary stopped and glared at him.

Matthew just laughed and pulled her close, kissing her firmly. Unable to be angry with him when he kissed her like that, Mary wrapped her arms around his neck, returning the kiss. After a long moment of exchanging heated kisses that left them both quite out of breath, they finally parted, and Matthew again tucked her arm under his.

They continued their walk, turning in the direction of one of the other buildings. The scents and sounds soon confirmed Matthew's suspicion that it was the stables. Worried that they might step in something unpleasant in the dark, he pulled Mary to the side, continuing their walk in the grass instead.

As they turned the corner, Mary spotted and open box. She tugged at Matthew's arm.

"Be careful where you step," he cautioned.

They walked slowly, quietly, watching their steps. Once they reached the open box, the horse stuck his head out, nudging Mary's chest. She grinned and stroked his soft muzzle.

"I'm sorry, I don't have a treat for you," she whispered to the horse, and, instead, placed a kiss where her hand had just rested.

Matthew tugged at her hand, and she reluctantly said goodbye to her new friend. He rolled his eyes when Mary whispered her wish to have a closer look at the other horses. Unable to argue her request now that they were there, he just nodded, and they continued down the stalls.

A strange noise made them both freeze, and they looked at each other. Everything was silent for a long moment, and then the noise sounded again. It sounded like a loud moan. Matthew's eyebrows shot up, and he peeked around the corner. As he did, his eyes widened at the discovery of two people engaged in a very intimate act. A soft gasp alerted him that Mary had seen as well.

"_Oui!" _

Matthew bit his lip at the sight and sound of the young woman who was gripping the bar in front of her so tightly. The man behind her moved faster; pushing her skirt further out of the way before his hand disappeared out of sight entirely.

"_Oh, mon dieu!"_

"_Silence, ma chère."_

"How can he expect her to be quiet when he's touching her like that?" Mary whispered next to Matthew's ear.

Matthew's face was burning, and his trousers were starting to feel uncomfortable. Mary's presence so close by did nothing to ease his situation.

"Come, we should leave," he hissed.

She nodded, and the two hurried back the same way they had come. Once safely out of earshot, they burst out laughing.

"Perhaps we should retire?" Mary suggested.

Matthew nodded, grinning excitedly. Taking her hand, he almost dragged her back inside and upstairs to their room.

~ O ~

Once he had closed and locked the door behind them, Matthew grabbed Mary, pulling her close, kissing her. He walked her backwards towards the window until her backside touched the high window sill. Quickly turning Mary around, Matthew placed her hands on the sill. She gasped when he, without further ado, pulled her skirt up over her back.

"Matthew!"

"Don't tell me that you did not find watching them at least a little exciting," he whispered, all while stroking her legs and thighs.

"But, like this..?" Mary's cheeks were burning.

"It feels forbidden, doesn't it?" he drawled.

Mary gasped as he cupped her, pressing the soft silk of her undergarments against her. She could tell that they were already quite sodden, proving Matthew's claim that she had found watching the French couple stimulating.

She whimpered as he stroked her, only faintly recognizing the sound of him unbuckling his belt. When he quickly eased her undergarments down her legs, she stepped out of them without a sound.

"Matthew!" Mary tossed her head back, and her fingers tightened around the window sill once his hand returned to stroke her intimately.

"I want you, Mary. I want you so very, very desperately."

"Then have me," she gasped.

Matthew held her hips as he entered her. His eyes closed hard at the incredible feeling of loving her like this. Mary was trembling and, now and then, squeezing him, causing them both to moan with pleasure. Conjuring a mental image of the couple in the stable, Matthew moved fast behind her. With one hand on her hip, he stroked her, circling and teasing her little spot. Mary sobbed and whimpered, so close to spending. He gritted his teeth and plunged even deeper inside her in his quest for release. Mary cried out, and he felt her shatter as her body squeezed and pulsed around him. His face contorted, almost as in pain, as he pushed on, desperate to join her. He grunted loudly as he spilled inside her, eventually leaning over her, gasping for air. She was still pulsing around him, and to his surprise he started to climb again.

"Mary," he gasped. "I think that I…"

"Yes, darling, yes," she gasped and pushed back against him. "Oh, please, yes."

He took her hand, pressing her fingers against her center, not letting go until he felt her fingers move.

"That's it."

Grabbing her by the hips, he pounded into her. She yelled and trembled violently. Knowing that she was as desperate as he was, Matthew moved like a mad man. Now and then his eyes ventured down to admire her beautiful backside and where their bodies came together. His manhood shimmered in the faint light, and the knowledge of why, only intensified the fire burning inside him.

Mary let out a series of little screams as she found her release. Matthew felt himself swell at the feeling and followed her. As they both came down from their high, Mary swayed a little. Reluctantly separating himself from her, Matthew led her, almost dragged her, over to the bed where they both sank down, completely spent.

"I should undress," she whispered against his chest.

"In a moment, darling. In a moment."

~ O ~

Somehow, they managed to get into bed properly. Both exhausted and sated, they settled in together, legs entangled, Mary's cheek resting on Matthew's chest. Now and then, she tilted her head up for a soft kiss until she heard Matthew's breathing change. Looking up at his handsome face one last time, she again marveled at how this had happened, how she had found complete happiness with the boy she met at Downton one Christmas.

Mary's dreams were filled with memories, tangled with blurred faces, in a web so intricate she woke up with a start. She had seen children, but they were not any children she knew. A little girl with clear blue eyes and brown hair, running towards a man. She laughed and held out her little arms for him to catch her, which he did, swinging her up in the air above his head. A cheerful _'Da!'_ tumbling from the little girl's grinning lips.

Gently entangling herself from Matthew, Mary slipped out of bed, grabbing her dressing gown on her way to the ensuite. After finishing, she stood by the window for a moment, watching the mist hover over the lawn outside. It did remind her a little of Downton. She rested her forehead against the cool pane of the window, trying to sort out the images from her dream. The man was familiar somehow, but she had the hardest time placing him. What she did know was that it was not her husband. Mary frowned when she realized that the girl was not hers either, no matter the strong bond she felt between them. She let out a heavy sigh, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Unable to go back to sleep quite yet, she grabbed the blanket from where it had been kicked to the floor hours earlier and curled up in the chair by the window. Closing her eyes, she tried to bring forth the images from the dream. She gasped when one of the other children took shape, his eyes as clear a blue as his father's. Matthew's son. _Her_ son.

"Mary?"

His mumbling voice startled her, and her head snapped around. Matthew was sitting up in bed, blinking in the faint light, his hair delightfully tousled. Mary smiled at the sight and got up. Shedding the blanket, she slipped back into bed again.

"Mmm, you're warm," she purred.

"Mary! Dear God, your feet are little ice blocks." Matthew instinctively pulled his legs away from her cold feet when she tried to warm her toes against his body.

"And you're so good at warming them."

He rolled his eyes and rubbed his foot over hers. She hummed in delight and snuggled closer. In a matter of minutes, she was asleep, a contented smile on her lips. Matthew was now wide awake, astonished at how his wife had managed this little scheme.

~ O ~

When Mary woke up for real a few hours later, the first thing she noticed was that Matthew was very close and that a very specific part of his body was pushing against her backside. She grinned and wiggled a little against him. He moaned and tightened his grip on her. She wiggled again, and it caused a louder groan from her still very much asleep husband. Thinking back to their conversation at the café in Paris, Mary's cheeks flushed at the naughty thoughts that came to mind. Slowly and carefully, she turned in his arms, putting a little space between them. Pushing the sheet down a bit more, she took in the sight of him. How deliciously tempting he looked. She took a ragged breath, trying to calm down. The truth was that she wanted him; she desired him.

Remembering the excitement of the first time she had touched him intimately, she gently took him in her hand and closed her fingers around his morning arousal. He moved and sighed. Mary bit her lip, trying not to giggle. She watched his face intently as she stroked him a few times. His breathing increased, and he mumbled something in his sleep. Tossing her hair over her shoulder Mary bent down and kissed the head, swirling her tongue around the tip, then flicked it over it a few times. Matthew was now moaning quite loudly. Noticing with amusement and pride how he was much firmer now, she moved and closed her lips around him, stroking her tongue over the soft skin as she continued to love him.

"Oh God…"

His fingers tangled in her hair as he started to wake up. She cupped his sack, fondling him there as well. His hips jerked and she moved faster.

"Mary!" Matthew's head shot up from the pillow as he finally was fully awake. "Stop, stop, or I'll…"

Mary reluctantly let go of him and raised her blushing face to look at him.

"Good morning." She grinned cheekily at him, her eyelashes fluttering a little.

"Good morning, indeed," he gasped.

"Are you angry?"

He met her dark eyes and smiled at her, gently tugging at her arm until she stretched out on top of him.

"Never, my darling. It was delightful."

"But you didn't want me to finish?"

"I prefer to finish _with_ you." He chuckled and pressed a kiss to her smiling lips. "Besides, I don't know exactly how comfortable it would be for you if I were to spend in your mouth."

Her eyes widened. She had not thought of that at all. He kissed her again, holding her tight.

"May I love you another way?"

Mary looked so eager gazing down at him that all Matthew could do was nod. He stroked her hip and pulled her up a little so he could touch her. His eyebrows shot up at the discovery of just how ready she was. She bit her lip, and the pink hue on her cheeks darkened a little. Knowing what she liked, Matthew stroked and teased between her legs until her eyes fluttered shut, only then did he push two fingers inside her, curling them slightly when he withdrew.

"God Mary."

His voice returned her focus. Mary eased away from him, gently touching his lips when he started to protest, while looking slightly bewildered at her actions.

"I want to love you, darling."

"But Mary, allowing me to do this, to touch _you_, is loving me," he protested.

"I know, but you're so good at it, that it is frankly quite distracting." Her eyes twinkled and she shot him a cheeky grin.

"Glad to hear it."

"Now do be quiet, Matthew."

His mouth opened and closed twice before he mock glared at her.

"You have some nerve, woman," he muttered. She ran her nails over the side of his stomach, over a very ticklish spot and he sputtered in reaction. "Fine, fine!"

"Much better, darling." Mary purred next to his ear.

"You're a vixen, a temptress."

She moved her fingers to his nipples, and he gasped. Mary giggled and moved on the bed. Stroking and nibbling, she discovered his body. When she took him in her mouth again, Matthew did not argue, quite the opposite, as his hips jerked at the delicious touch. Mary had straddled his legs, so he could not move much. He contemplated rolling her over, the need to be inside her so desperate now.

Mary let go of him and moved up. Hovering above him, she rested her palms on his chest.

"Matthew…"

He opened his eyes and smiled at her. She leaned down for a kiss and his hands came up to caress her hips. He steadied her when she pulled back until she was kneeling.

"Mary, God Mary." Matthew groaned with pleasure as she again took him in her hand, slowly lowering herself. The sight was so erotic to him, he almost expired right that very moment.

"Not yet…" she purred.

Matthew's eyes bored into hers, then flicked down to watch as she moved a little. With his hands still on her hips, he helped her set a steady rhythm. Watching her, and feeling her in this new way, he could not fathom why they had never done this before.

"Mary, dear God…"

His eyes rolled back in his head when she moved a little faster. He could feel her start to tighten around him. Realizing that if he moved his hand just a little he could actually stroke her little spot with his thumb, he was quick to do it. Mary cried out and closed so deliciously around him in response.

"Mmm… oh God… oh God…"

Watching her move against him through her release was nothing but incredible. Unable to hold back any longer, Matthew pushed up, meeting her as he let go. With a tight grip on her hips he pushed up against her, prolonging her experience through his own. She fell down on him, and he held her close as they both tried to catch their breath. He smiled when he felt her tighten around him now and then as little aftershocks crept up on her. Finally she slid off and curled up next to him. He chuckled at the smug little smile on her lips.

"Pleased with yourself, darling?"

"Tremendously. I simply am extraordinary clever sometimes," Mary quipped.

"That you are, my darling."

He held her close, stroking her back, delighting in the wonderful aftermath of their morning tryst. She snuggled closer, and he pressed a kiss to her brow. A thought came to mind, and laughter bubbled up inside him until he was shaking next to her.

"Whatever is the matter?"

"Did you realize that in less than twelve hours, we've made love in two completely new ways? Delightful ways, if I may say so."

Mary blushed and nodded. "I'm glad."

"Mary, don't ever worry about showing that you desire this." He tilted her chin up, meeting her eyes. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Sealing it with a kiss, he pulled her back into his arms. Speaking softly, and just enjoying being close, they watched the sun come up over Versailles.

~ O ~

Anna inspected Mary's hands as she helped her mistress out of the bath. Noticing that they were getting quite long, she made a mental note to discuss the matter with her once they were back in the bedroom. She slipped a robe over Mary's' shoulders, then turned to gather the towels before following Mary from the room.

"Anna, Mr. Crawley and I have no obligations tonight. I was going to suggest that we have dinner up here."

"That sounds lovely, milady." Anna smiled, and her eyes held a little twinkle.

"What is it?" Mary raised an eyebrow, curious to know what had made Anna smile like that.

"Oh, I can't tell." Anna's eyes widened. "It's a surprise. Please, milady."

"I see. Are you in cahoots with my husband, Anna?"

Anna blushed and busied herself with Mary's hair. "If Mr. Crawley were to request my help in a matter that was sure to make you happy, milady, how could I possibly say no?"

"I suppose." She took a deep breath and frowned a little. "Though I cannot say that I like the thought of you conspiring with my husband. You're supposed to be on _my_ side."

"I am, milady!" Anna looked Mary in the eyes, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Of course I am. But this was so nice, I just couldn't say no."

"All right." Mary rolled her eyes. "Just don't make a habit out of it. I don't like secrets. You know that."

Realizing that Mary was not serious, Anna giggled and nodded. "I suppose that's why Mr. Crawley enjoys it so much."

Mary huffed. Holding up her, arm she inspected her skin before applying her new favorite lotion, scented with lemon and lavender.

"You never told me what you learned the last day of your course."

"Perhaps I can show you, milady?"

"It depends. What is it?"

"How to do a proper lady's manicure."

"My, oh my, that does sound interesting."

"Your nails need cuttin' anyway, milady."

Mary watched in amusement as Anna gathered her supplies. Two little bowls were placed on the vanity in front of Mary, holding warm water and lemon slices. Anna instructed Mary to dip her fingertips into the water, holding them there for a while.

"What does this do?"

"It will make your nails whiter and remove any unwanted oils."

"Interesting. It is not unpleasant, I must admit."

"We received a gift at the end of the course," Anna explained and held up a small case for Mary to see.

"How lovely!"

Anna selected a small jar and a little ceramic bowl from the box. Mary watched with keen interest as Anna poured a little oil into the bowl, before picking up another jar and the tiniest little spoon Mary had ever seen.

"Tinting your nails with pink oils is the latest in Paris, milady."

"Pink?" Mary's eyes widened.

Anna nodded. "If you prefer, I can practice on your feet. Then if you like it, we can do the same on your hands."

"Sounds good to me."

After drying Mary's hands and inspecting her fingernails, Anna placed Mary's feet on a small footstool that she had covered with a towel. Before starting on the pedicure, she poured a little lavender scented oil into her hand and then gently picked up Mary's left foot, stroking her hands over it as she massaged in the oil.

"Oh Anna," Mary groaned. "You are spoiling me. That feels divine."

Anna giggled and pressed a bit firmer with her hands. Once done, she did the same to Mary's other foot. Mary watched eagerly as Anna mixed the oil and color powder together. Her eyebrows inched up when the concoction was applied to her toenails. Anna was very neat and seemed very sure of what she was doing, which put Mary at ease. She giggled when Anna started buffing her nails with a small cloth.

"It tickles."

"Sorry, milady." Anna grinned up at her. "Almost done."

Mary looked down at her feet, wiggling her toes a little. Her toenails glimmered as they reflected the light. She had to admit that Anna was right. It did look lovely.

"Well done, Anna."

"Do you want me to do your hands too, milady?"

"I certainly do, but perhaps not quite so dark. Unless that's not possible."

"That's fine, milady. I'll just add a bit more oil and it will make it lighter."

"Wonderful!"

Anna cut and filed Mary's nails, using tools Mary had never seen before. They all appeared to come from Anna's little case. When Anna finally folded her little cloth and put it away, Mary held up her hands, inspecting the result.

"This is lovely, Anna." Mary moved her fingers, grinning at how her nails were smooth and shiny, with a pink tint to them. "I say we buy a box like that for Mama. I'm sure you can teach O'Brien how to do it, or perhaps simply do it yourself."

"I'd be happy to get one for you, milady. It's a lovely gift, really."

"Still, I don't know if I could do it myself."

"I practiced on my feet first," Anna confessed.

Mary chuckled and she wiggled her eyebrows at Anna. "Dear me, who would've known that Anna Smith had such a delightful little secret hidden inside those plain shoes. How daring!"

Anna giggled and nodded. "Unfortunately they don't look as nice as yours, milady."

"Oh?"

"You see… I had to experiment a little with the color."

"So your toes have different shades?" Anna nodded, biting her lip. Mary burst out laughing. "I wish I could see it. I'm sure it is quite endearing."

"Silly's more like it," Anna huffed. "Now be nice, milady. You shouldn't really laugh at my unfortunate situation."

Mary laughed harder, which set Anna off, and the two laughed together at the silliness of it all.

_**To be continued**_**…**


	12. Picnic at Versailles

Thank you for all the lovely reviews and encouragement to keep going with this story. I truly treasure them all. It feels like Christmas every time I see a new review posted :D

Also, I am humbled and touched by the **Highclere Awards nomination**. Whoever nominated me, thank you ever so much!

…

…

**Chapter 12 – A Versailles Picnic**

Matthew was giddy with anticipation as he escorted Mary through the hotel. Now and then, she asked him questions, woven very cleverly into their conversation, but so far he had managed to avoid giving the surprise away.

"I thought we were having dinner."

Mary frowned as Matthew steered her towards the exit to the back. He just smiled at her and held the door for her. The sun was just setting, bathing the gardens in a beautiful pinkish light. Matthew led her down a narrow, graveled path, framed by neatly maintained hedges. She shivered a little as a cool breeze swept over them.

"Darling, I left my wrap in the room."

"I'll run back upstairs for it," Matthew assured her.

The hedge bowed out as they turned the corner, opening up to a small patio where a firepit was lit on the side, and a table was set for two in the middle. Elegant crystal glasses reflected the light from the setting sun while long, tapered candles in a silver candelabra flickered gently in the soft breeze.

"Oh, Matthew." Mary gasped and looked up at him. "It's beautiful."

"It might be the last time this year when it's still warm enough to dine outside. I didn't want to miss the opportunity."

Mary turned in his arms and cupped his face, kissing him softly. "Thank you."

He escorted her over to the table, pulling the chair out for her. A waiter showed up, asking if they were ready for him to pour the wine. Matthew explained the situation with Mary's throw, asking him to serve Mary a drink while he ran back upstairs.

"I'll only be a moment, darling."

"I'm perfectly fine, Matthew." Mary smiled and gestured to the firepit. "It's quite warm. Perhaps I don't need my shawl."

"I don't want you to get cold later and possibly get sick. It will only take a moment."

~ O ~

Thomas hurried through the hotel, clutching the neatly wrapped box tightly, Mary's shawl hanging over his arm. Mr. Crawley had forgotten the gift, and Thomas knew how much he had been looking forward to giving it to Lady Mary this evening. He sighed in relief as he spotted Matthew up ahead. He was speaking to someone. Thomas stopped a few feet away.

"Oh Thomas, thank you. I was just on my way upstairs to get it." Matthew smiled at him as he spotted his valet with Mary's shawl in his hand. "Please excuse me, Your Grace."

The man turned, and his eyes filled with laughter at seeing Thomas. Thomas' eyes widened in recognition, and he bowed his head.

"Your Grace."

"This is the Duke of Crowborough, Thomas." Not waiting for Thomas' response, Matthew turned to the duke. "Your Grace, this is my travelling valet, Thomas. He's been invaluable during this trip." He chuckled and held up the golden box with white silk ribbons. "Somehow I managed to forget my wife's gift upstairs."

"I suppose we could blame it on infatuation with the lovely Lady Mary," the duke said with a teasing smile.

"Yes, I suppose we could."

"I will not hold you up any longer, Mr. Crawley. It was nice to see you again. Please give my regards to Lady Mary."

"Thank you. Perhaps we will find time to dine together before we leave, Your Grace."

"I look forward to it."

Matthew smiled and nodded, hurrying towards the garden where Mary was waiting.

~ O ~

Mary turned and smiled when she heard footsteps on the gravel.

"That was quick, darling."

"I'm pleased to hear that you've missed me, Lady Mary."

Mary stared in shock at the man standing a few feet away, grinning at her.

"Mr. Pamuk!" Mary jumped to her feet, looking around for the waiter. To her chagrin, he was nowhere in sight. She and Kemal Pamuk were totally alone in this secluded part of the gardens.

Pamuk quickly crossed the space, taking her hands. "My darling, I'm so pleased that our paths have crossed again. I knew we were destined to get another chance."

"Please, Mr. Pamuk!" Mary tried to free her hands. "My husband will be back any moment. I cannot imagine what he will do if he finds us like this."

"Then tell me that you will end my suffering. Come to me tonight."

He finished his request with a passionate kiss to her lips. Mary tore her mouth away from his, fuming with anger.

"Mr. Pamuk!"

Mary tugged harder, managing to free her hands just as Matthew turned the corner. Kemal Pamuk had moved closer, and now seized her by the waist.

"Come now, Lady Mary, surely you feel it too?"

"Feel what, exactly?"

Matthew's cold voice made Kemal Pamuk turn his head and smile at him. "Mr. Crawley."

"I suggest that you let go of my wife this instant."

"Or what?" Pamuk chuckled, stroking his hand over Mary's side.

"Now, Mr. Pamuk," Matthew growled.

Pamuk bowed at Mary and stepped back. She quickly took a few steps away.

"Leave."

"You're not very hospitable, Mr. Crawley. I was under the impression that the English were… how should I put it? Aristocrats in your country seem open to exploring passion elsewhere, once able to hide behind the disguise of marriage."

"What are you insinuating?" Matthew's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Customs of your country's aristocracy indicate that your marriage would be one of convenience more so than love. Lady Mary is a stunningly beautiful woman. Why should she settle only for you?"

Matthew's arm pulled back and his fist connected with Pamuk's chin a second later, making the man stumble backwards.

"Don't ever speak about my wife in that way again. Now leave, before I have you escorted out of here."

Kemal Pamuk grinned and rubbed his chin. Winking at Mary, he bowed his head at the two.

"Until next time, Lady Mary."

Matthew glared at the man as Pamuk sauntered off. Once certain that the Turk was not coming back, he hurried over to Mary.

"Are you all right, darling? Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, Matthew. Thank you for returning so quickly."

"Thank Thomas actually. He saw your throw and brought it downstairs. I ran into him and the Duke of Crowborough in the lobby."

"Remind me to thank him tomorrow."

~ O ~

The Duke of Crowborough watched Matthew for a moment until he was out of earshot before turning to Thomas who was still standing a few feet away.

"Thomas, what a pleasure."

"Your Grace."

"My dear man, surely you've not forgotten my name so quickly?" Edwyn drawled in a low, almost purr-like, voice.

"I don't think it appropriate for me to take liberties like that, Your Grace. Not here."

"Then perhaps later?"

Thomas met the man's twinkling eyes, noticing the eagerness in them. With a curt nod, he agreed.

"I cannot say when that would be. Mr. Crawley did not tell me when he and Lady Mary plan on returning."

"I'll be waiting. You know it will be worth it, my dear Thomas."

Thomas' face felt warm, and he noticed a reaction elsewhere too. Quickly clasping his hands in front of him, he defiantly tilted his chin up. The duke chuckled in recognition and patted Thomas' shoulder. He leaned closer as he walked past him, whispering softly in Thomas' ear.

"I have missed you. Please don't keep me waiting."

Thomas inhaled sharply at the feel of Edwyn's warm breath against his ear.

"I won't."

The Duke laughed softly and stepped back before leaving a quite stunned Thomas standing in the lobby of the hotel.

~ O ~

Matthew was in an extremely good mood when he joined his wife later that evening. His dinner arrangement had been a success, and Mary had been stunning, turning more than one head as they came downstairs. He smiled at her, again overcome with how much he loved her.

Mary was lounging on top of the covers, wearing only her silky nightgown and the necklace Matthew had given her earlier. She moved her bare feet on the bed as he approached. Matthew's eyebrows shot up at the sight of Mary's dainty feet. There was something distinctively different about them. Sitting down, he gently stroked over the arch of her foot. As he looked more closely, he noticed her toes.

"Mary! Your toes…"

Mary giggled at his surprised exclamation. "Do you like it?"

Matthew swallowed and nodded silently. Meeting her eyes he ran his hand up her calf and under her nightgown. "I believe that I like it a lot. Whatever made you think of doing such a thing?"

"Remember I told you that I had Anna take a course in latest fashion trends while we were in Paris? She learned how to do it while there."

"What course?" Matthew frowned.

"Surely I must have told you?" Mary smiled innocently at him.

"I'm fairly certain that you didn't." He tugged her closer, his hand now stroking gently over the back of her thigh. "What else did Anna learn at this course, which, I must confess, truly sounds to be aimed at shocking unsuspecting husbands."

Mary laughed and gently swatted his chest. "Perhaps. Still, as shocking as you might find women's fashion, I'm sure that you will not die from any new discovery."

"I don't know. Just the knowledge of what hidden treasures you could be hiding might set me off at unfortunate times."

"Oh Matthew." She brushed her lips against his and played with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. "Now, do you wish to discuss Anna's studies, or are you planning on making love to me?"

"Anna who?"

Mary giggled as he quickly divested her of her nightgown before kissing her chest. She started to remove her necklace, but he shook his head.

"Please leave it on. It looks truly stunning on you."

Mary smiled, pleased with the adoring look on his face. Letting go of the clasp, she stretched out on the bed watching Matthew as he slipped out of his pajamas. She hummed in delight when he was finally naked, delighting in his firm, warm body pressed against hers.

"Darling…"

Matthew looked up, his lips still pressed to the side of her breast. "Hmm?"

Mary stroked his cheek, and, to his surprise, her face turned pink. He sat up and looked confusedly at her.

"I was thinking…" Mary looked away, unable to look at him as she stated her request. "Last night…"

"Ah…" Matthew let out a sigh of relief, but when she still did not look at him, he started to worry. "If you didn't like that, we won't…"

"No! I did." Mary exclaimed, looking at him in alarm. "To be completely honest with you, I found it thrilling."

"As did I." Matthew grinned mischievously and leaned down for a kiss.

"You're always so considerate, Matthew, and it is lovely. I have no complaints whatsoever, darling."

"But?"

"Last night was different," she whispered. "It was spontaneous, fast and… intensely passionate… almost wild." She closed her eyes and swallowed hard as her body started to react to the memory. "I enjoyed it; probably more than what is appropriate."

"What do you want, Mary?" Matthew spoke in a soft, husky voice. "Tell me, and I'll do it."

"Could we try that, but in bed?" Her cheeks turned pink again.

Matthew nodded eagerly. "Oh my darling, of course we can."

Mary giggled and reached for him.

~ O ~

Tom Branson was deep in thought when he entered the Downton rose garden. None of the other servants seemed to ever set foot there, and he knew that the family was unlikely to be out at this hour. It was a beautiful, warm day with just a hint of crispness in the air. With his hands in his pockets Tom walked along the neatly trimmed hedges.

Sybil looked up at the sound of someone approaching. She smiled and lowered the letter she had been reading as she watched the handsome, young chauffeur approach. Clearly Branson thought that he was alone, his coat slung casually over his left shoulder. Given this opportunity to study him more closely, Sybil took him in from top to toe. He really was handsome. Branson had rolled up his shirtsleeves, and she noticed his strong arms as he reached out to touch a rose.

"You may have it, if you like."

He jumped and snatched his hand away. She giggled a little at his reaction.

"Lady Sybil, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there."

"It's quite all right, Branson."

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you. Good day to you, my lady."

He dipped his chin as he turned to leave.

"Branson?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"What were you doing just now? You seemed very deep in thought."

"I was thinking of my mother." Sybil tilted her head, looking eagerly at him. "Today is her birthday. Well, was…" He shrugged and looked away.

"I'm sorry. You must miss her a lot."

"I do."

"Do you wish to talk about her?" Sybil asked a little hesitantly. She gestured to the empty space next to her. "Please, have a seat, Branson."

"Oh, I couldn't, my lady."

Sybil rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, Branson."

He lowered himself onto the grass, stretching out his legs in front of him, leaning on his hands.

"How is this, my lady?"

"Better."

"Another letter from Lady Mary?"

"Yes." Sybil grinned and touched the stationary. "I'm so glad that Mary has time to write. She was always wonderful at telling stories."

"I'm glad too. I can tell that you really miss her, my lady."

"I do." Sybil looked down, playing with the edge of the envelope. "I think the worst part is to know that she's not coming back."

"Not coming back?"

"To Downton I mean. Once they return to England, she'll have her own house with Matthew in Manchester."

"Of course." He nodded in understanding. "I'm sure she'll come and visit. Besides, letters take much less time to arrive from Manchester than Paris."

"Oh, Branson." Sybil burst out laughing at his cheeky grin. "Thank you for making me laugh."

"My pleasure, my lady." He wiggled his eyebrows. "What exciting things have they been up to?"

"They climbed the Eifel Tower!" Sybil's eyes were wide with excitement. "Can you believe it? My sister walked all the way up."

Branson smiled and shook his head. "I suppose we'll have to take her word for it, my lady."

"She says there are pictures." She looked down, skimming her sister's handwriting again. "Mary is such a tease sometimes. She writes that she bought me something in Montmartre, but she won't say what it is."

"It will be all the more exciting when you open the gift."

"Perhaps you can drive me to Manchester to get it?"

Branson burst out laughing. "I'm not sure his lordship would approve of such a long drive. He might think that I had plans to kidnap you."

"Branson." Sybil rolled her eyes at him. Putting Mary's letter aside, she looked eagerly at him. "Tell me what's going on with the vote."

"It's going to happen, I think. I don't know exactly when, but I think it might be soon. A lot of people aren't happy about it, so it really could go either way. Personally, as you know, I think it's ridiculous to say that a woman should not have her own opinion. I've met many women who are far more intelligent than their husbands."

"I know." Sybil let out a heavy sigh and looked away. "I wish that I could learn other things than how to do needlework and ballroom dancing. The idea that my husband will tell me what to think and what to believe in is repulsive, Branson!"

He nodded in agreement, stunned by how beautiful she looked in her fury over the injustice of the world of women.

"You would be a wonderful sparring partner in a debate, my lady."

"You really think so?" She laughed in delight at the thought. "How exciting it sounds! Arguing one's point with facts and knowledge, changing people's minds by showing proof of wrongdoings."

"I think you would make a fabulous barrister too, my lady."

"No, no, no! I couldn't possibly!" She grinned at him as she gestured wildly, disagreeing with him. "I'm far too impatient and demanding, Branson. Matthew says that a solicitor must be calm and never lose his temper. I'm not sure I could do that. I would want to shake some sense into the opposition."

"Well, that wouldn't do in a courtroom. I can just see the wigs go flying as Lady Sybil Crawley causes another brawl in court."

"Branson!" Sybil shrieked with laughter at the image his words evoked.

"Of course, you are a lady, so you would always do it with grace and decorum."

Sybil huffed at that. He chuckled when she glared at him.

"Why is it that no one talks to me the way you do, Branson?"

"I can't answer that, my lady. It's their loss, really."

Sybil slipped off the bench and knelt next to him. "Sometimes I wish that I had not been born the daughter of an earl."

"I don't, my lady. You're perfect the way you are. If you were anyone else, you wouldn't be you."

"Are you flirting with me, Branson?" Sybil blushed and her eyelashes fluttered a little.

"I suppose I was. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I know my place, my lady."

"Please, Branson, don't hide behind that silliness. We've just been speaking like equals."

Not quite, he thought to himself. Noticing she sadness in her eyes, he nodded. She moved closer and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"My lady, you shouldn't really do that."

"If you can flirt with me, can't I touch you?" She giggled a little and tilted her head.

"It's too dangerous, my lady. If someone saw it, I might lose my job, and you would be in trouble with his lordship."

"But no one is here but us."

"That only makes it more dangerous, my lady."

Looking into his eyes, noticing the intensity in his gaze, Sybil swallowed a little nervously. She had flirted with young men before, but it had always been in the safety of a crowded room with her parents present. This was different, and so much more exciting. She moved her hand to his hair, touching it with gentle fingers. When he did not move away from her touch, she got bolder, running her fingers along his jaw line and down his neck.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph!"

Branson quickly grasped her hand. Sybil blushed and curled her fingers around his.

"I've never touched a man before. Not like that."

"I'm not a man, Lady Sybil. Not to you. To you I'm a chauffeur, someone who works for your father."

"I don't want that. I want you to be my friend!"

He smiled at the despair in her voice and decided to tempt fate a bit more by stroking her fingers.

"I _am_ your friend, but only like this. You're very young, my lady. I don't want to be the cause of you ruining your future."

"How could you possibly?"

He just smiled at her and let go of her hand. Jumping to his feet, he nodded at her.

"Enjoy your day, Lady Sybil. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

Sybil sighed and nodded. She watched him leave, her hand still warm from his touch.

~ O ~

Having woken up to a beautiful, sunny day, Mary had eagerly asked Matthew if they could have a picnic luncheon in the hotel park, something that he was quick to agree to. Dressed for a day out, and with a small basket, provided by the hotel, in hand, the two set off on a leisurely stroll.

Matthew knew when he had found the perfect spot. It was somewhat secluded, with a few large trees giving shade over a patch of still lush grass. Birds were chirping in the nearby bushes, and above, the leaves rustled in the gentle breeze. Spreading the blanket on the ground, he helped Mary sit down before taking a seat next to her.

"I wonder what we have here?" he said with an eager grin.

"Hopefully something to drink."

Matthew peered inside the basket and clucked with excitement. A bottle of wine was securely wedged into one corner of the basket, and something that looked like lemonade sat in some form of contraption that was filled with ice.

"Lemonade or wine, darling?"

"Both?" Mary chuckled at his surprised look. "I'm thirsty, but I don't want to drink a whole glass of wine just to slake my thirst."

"Of course," he said and quickly grabbed a small lemonade glass, filling it for her. "Here you go."

Mary sipped the cool beverage, humming in delight over its sweet and tart taste. She watched Matthew uncover some meat and bread, fruit, and what appeared to be some form of pear or apple pastry. She pointed at the cheese.

"Could I have some of that please?"

He carved a small piece off the block of cheese and offered it to her lips. Mary grinned and leaned forward, her lips brushing against his fingertips as he fed her.

The food turned out to be superb, and they enjoyed it tremendously, now and then sharing little bites with each other, relishing in the freedom at being able to do so. They had discovered while in Paris that they both shared a love for cheese. With this in mind, Matthew had asked Thomas to request several local choices for their picnic. Only a few scraps and crumbs remained on the little wooden board that had been provided with the basket.

"I think the Roquefort was delightful with the spread."

"It's a bit too strong for my taste," Mary countered. "The Camembert, however, was delicious with the apricots."

"Would you like some dessert?" Matthew asked while refilling her wine.

"In a moment. I fear that I enjoyed the cheese too much."

He nodded and smiled at her. Mary was sitting across from him, looking beautiful. She had removed her hat, and her hair reflected an errant sun beam, here and there showing off the different browns and reds in her hair.

"I'll pack this up then, but leave the sweet treats on top for when we're ready."

She nodded and watched him silently while sipping her wine. Finally done, he put the basket aside and moved a little so he could lean against the tree behind him. Holding out his hand to her, he beckoned her closer. She eagerly settled next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder, basking in the feeling of his arm around her.

"This was wonderful. Thank you."

He hummed in agreement and turned his head to place a kiss on her forehead. Reaching inside his pocket, he pulled out a small book.

"Would you like me to read to you?"

"What is it?"

"A collection of French poems." He laughed a little nervously. "I imagine that others before us have delighted in these same passages, perhaps even sitting here in the same spot."

"Oh, Matthew, you truly are a romantic."

He blushed at her words, but nodded and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. Settling in together again, he opened the book of love poems to the one he felt fit the moment best. Reading to Mary in a steady voice, he dove into the task with valor.

~ O ~

"You can't hide from me, darling."

Mary clapped her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. Matthew was chasing her, and she thrilled at the thought of when he would finally find her. Hearing him close in on her, she set off again.

"Aha, there you are!"

Matthew laughed as he sprinted after the laughing Mary. Of course he had no trouble catching up to her, once he had found her. Wrapping his arms around her, he spun her around. She shrieked, and he put her down. When he let go of her, she took off again.

"Mary!"

He chased after her again. Mary was laughing so hard she had trouble running. Almost making it back to their blanket, she hid behind a tree, peeking around it at him. She bit her lip, giggling at the sight of him. Matthew's face was a little pink, and he was tugging at his collar.

"Did I run too fast for you, dearest?" she teased.

"Oh, you."

He lunged at her, but she was quicker, darting around to the other side. They played like this for a few moments before he tricked her, making her run straight into his arms. She squeaked with surprise and pouted a little.

"You cheat."

He placed a fiery kiss against her lips, which she was quick to respond to. She let out another squeak when he picked her up, carrying her over to the blanket. Easing her feet down, he held her gaze. Mary took a step back, her eyes never leaving his. He stepped closer. She flinched when she felt the rough bark from the tree press against her back.

"You can't run any further," he teased.

"Matthew." She swallowed nervously as he inched closer, feeling the sexual tension intensify. "We can't."

"Why not?" His lips were so close to hers, she could feel his breath ghost over her mouth. "We're all alone here."

"But what if…" His lips cut her off, and she mewled softly as he curled his tongue around hers. Clutching at his jacket, she pulled him closer.

"Please, Mary."

She whimpered and nodded her consent. Delighted, Matthew shrugged out of his jacket, feeling too warm and constricted by it. He stroked her sides and down over her hips, pulling her slightly towards him, letting her feel just how much he desired her.

"Oh!" Mary's eyes fluttered shut when she felt him press against her so intimately.

Matthew grabbed handfuls of her skirt, pushing it up so he could touch her silk-clad legs. She trembled with excitement as he kept touching her. After spending some time stroking and kneading her buttocks, he finally cupped her intimately, pressing the soft silk against her as he moved his fingers to find her little spot. Mary let out a sob of pleasure when he found it, and he stroked it steadily through the silk until the garment was soaked through. Easing down on his knees, he pushed her knickers down and off before gently parting her folds with his lips and tongue, again searching for her little pearl.

"Matthew!"

Mary shook violently as he pleasured her with his mouth. His strong grip that pressed her firmly against the tree helped her stay on her feet as her legs became increasingly more rubbery. She gasped and her fingers curled in his blonde locks when he sucked her spot, flicking his tongue over it. This intimate touch that they had first discovered together so long ago at Downton had turned out to be one that they both cherished, and one that Matthew excelled at.

"Oh, God."

Matthew reluctantly let go of her. He could drink from her until eternity, but he knew that he wanted them to be joined when they fell into the abyss, the feel of her when that happened so incredibly delicious. Watching Mary's chest flutter as she gasped for breath and tried to remain standing on her now shaking legs, he unbuckled his trousers and pushed them down, freeing his aching manhood. As if finally realizing what he was doing, Mary's eyes opened, and she gave him a heated look. A second later, her warm hands grasped him firmly, stroking him, drawing gasps and moans out of him. When she stared to kneel down, he gently grabbed her elbow and shook his head.

"Later, darling. I'm too close for that."

She nodded in understanding and instead gave it a little tug. Matthew grunted with pleasure and fumbled for her skirt, pushing it up and out of the way. Mary guided him to her as he lifted her left leg up to rest on his hip. They both sighed when his tip bumped against her little spot. Mary stroked herself a few times, rubbing him over her slick center. His hips bucked in pleasure, but she held him firmly, preventing him from entering her.

"Mary, I can't hold back much longer."

"Yes, you can."

His eyes popped open at her words. Meeting her eyes, he held her gaze as she kept stroking herself with his hard member.

"I truly can't," he hissed.

Mary squeezed him hard, just at the base. His eyes widened, and he gasped. To his surprise, his arousal diminished somewhat.

"What? How..?"

She just giggled and kissed him, still rubbing herself against him.

"Something I read. I guess it was true."

"Something you…" His eyes widen in shock. "You? Oh god, Mary."

She had eased the tip inside her, clamping down on it. She felt so incredibly tight and warm. He wanted to plunge deep inside her, to find her core, to nestle there until all of him was burrowed inside her. Her hand, which still held him in a firm grip, prevented any further movement on his part. He tugged at her wrist, but all it accomplished was that she tightened her fingers more firmly around him.

"Patience, darling."

His eyes rolled back when he felt her tickle the underside of his manhood, then squeeze him inside. He ground his teeth, and his fingers dug into her hip. Then her hand was gone. Before he could open his eyes she whispered against his lips, her breath hot.

"Now."

With a deep growl, he grasped her hips and pushed inside her. She whimpered as he filled her, fluttering around him. He could tell that she was close too. Moving frantically against her, he tried to bring on her release. She felt incredible, soft, warm, and so tight. Now and then, she squeezed and fluttered around him, sending him closer to his release. Forcing his eyes open, he looked at her face, noticing the blush on her cheeks and how her lips were parted as she gasped.

"Mary," he groaned. "Look at me."

Her eyes opened and her dark eyes met his. Holding each other's gaze they pushed against each other, both feeling the intimacy of the moment increase.

"Put your arms around my neck," he gasped.

She did, and then laughed softly when he picked her up, pushing her against the tree. She curled her legs around his waist, bringing him closer to her.

"Please… oh god…"

Then everything shattered. Mary saw black spots behind her eyelids as her eyes closed tightly when she was overtaken by her release. She squeezed around him, holding him in a tight grip as he pushed a few last times before staying deep inside her as he spent.

Mary rested her forehead against his shoulder, gasping and sighing as she recovered. She whimpered a little when he withdrew once she'd slowly eased her legs down. Her knees were shaking so badly that she stumbled, and he was quick to help her down onto the blanket.

They came together in a tangle of arms and legs as they settled on the blanket, basking in the soft afterglow of their coupling.

**_To be continued…_**

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There you have it, love, smut, a bit of Sybil/Branson, our villain returned, so did a certain Duke... In the next chapter they will say farewell to France and return to England for Mary and Matthew to really start their new life together.

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The Highclere Awards voting closes tomorrow, Sunday June 16. If you haven't voted yet, but want to, please head on over to their website: www. highclereawards, com / place-your-votes .html

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